


All Roads Lead to Home

by emeraldsage85



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Civil War Fix-It, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Slow Burn, Swearing, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-07-24 20:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 58
Words: 159,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsage85/pseuds/emeraldsage85
Summary: Steve tracks down Bucky after the destruction of project insight and brings him back to live in the tower. It's not always easy but the two of them work on healing and creating a life for themselves, including dealing with some feelings they've never expressed towards each other. Civil War fix-it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea where I was going with this when I started writing it and eventually it took on a life of its own and turned into this monstrosity. It's unbeta'd and probably has a million plot holes but I thought I'd post it anyways since it's occupied all of my free time for over a year. I kind of feel like I've written the fanfic version of "The Room" but I hope you guys still enjoy it!
> 
> No spoilers for Infinity War or Endgame. Some spoilers for Ragnarok but I also used some bits from the comics to stick it all together.
> 
> Songs in chapter 8 are Stormy Weather - originally recorded in 1933 by Harold Arlen but check out Billie Holiday's version, Chatanooga Choo by Glen Miller with Tex Beneke and the Four Modernaires, Paper Doll by The Mills Brothers, and Vic'try Polka by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters. The song used in chapter 30 is Never Quit Loving You by Jill Barber. The song in chapter 57 is Nothing Can Change This Love by Sam Cooke. 
> 
> The Joy of Gay Sex is an actual book, written by Dr. Charles Silverstein and Felice Picano. And yes, it really does have illustrations. ;)

The Soldier disappears after heaving an injured Captain America onto the riverbank. He tries to outrun his past as the Asset by constantly moving, never staying in the same place for more than a few days, and making sure that he isn’t being followed. It wouldn’t surprise him if there were Hydra operatives out to recapture him. The first place he visits is the Smithsonian. He watches the looping video of a tiny man named Steve Rogers who turns into a national hero, the man the Soldier fought on the helicarrier; the one who insisted they’re friends.

The Soldier wanders through the exhibit amid the throngs of museum goers but stops short when he comes to a giant photo of himself. _A Fallen Comrade: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes_ the headline blares. The Soldier quickly skims the description before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. He’s wearing a dead man’s face. He isn’t Bucky Barnes. He can’t be because Bucky Barnes fell from a train and died in 1944 and he doesn’t remember any of it. Why can’t he remember?

The body was never found though. _The body was never found, even though a recovery mission was mounted by two members of the Howling Commandos._ The Soldier gives his head a shake. He can’t be Bucky Barnes. It isn’t possible. He’s the Soldier; he doesn’t have memories or a home or family or friends. He exists because Hydra created him.

The Soldier runs. He leaves the state and then the country, fleeing as far as he can in hopes of forgetting the man in the museum. He can’t be Bucky Barnes. That would mean he was once a real person and he’s not ready to deal with that yet. For reasons he can’t quite explain, the Soldier finally settles in Bucharest, squatting in a tiny, derelict apartment with newspapers over the windows to hide him from view.

It’s hard enough to live at first without his handlers telling him what to do and when to do it. He secretly observes many humans, watching them go about their daily routines and tries to emulate them with varying degrees of success. His faulty brain often provides him with unhelpful snippets of Hydra’s “maintenance procedures” for the Soldier: removal of armor and medical intervention if necessary, followed by spraying him down with a hose, feeding him some sort of liquid nutrients, and then shoving him into the cryo chamber after a memory wipe.

He’s never slept in a bed. He’s never had solid food or even a choice of what he eats. He’s never bathed himself, chosen his own clothes, or cut his own hair. He’s never been allowed to come and go as he pleases without orders from someone and it’s a heady feeling when he goes out to wander the streets without purpose for the first time. He mostly steals to get by, having no currency of his own and no concept of how to earn an honest day’s pay without any sort of identity. It’s a learning curve but he manages through trial and error.

Once basic survival is sorted out, he gets into a routine and that seems to help his scorched synapses begin the process of knitting themselves back together. He starts to have bizarre and sometimes frightening dreams that leave him unable to sleep and pacing the apartment, not wanting to go out more than his necessary trips for provisions. Sometimes he tries to distract himself with exercise or reading but it doesn’t help much.

In order to work out his jumbled thoughts, he steals a notebook and starts writing down what he remembers, anything that might be real. He starts with the dreams and it evolves into a list of people he’s killed. He doesn’t have any names, only vague descriptions and locations but the list grows almost daily until it spans two pages. The Soldier feels sick at the amount of carnage Hydra used to used him to create.

The memories of killing aren’t the only ones that come back to him though. Sometimes things like sights, smells, or noises will jog fragments of memories that leave him reeling for hours. Other times the memories come unbidden, showing him tiny bits of a personality he thought he’d never had.

One day he goes out to the market to find food and passes by a stall full of plums. The dark purple fruit catches his eye and before he knows it his brain has come up with a plan to liberate some for himself. Through some sleight of hand the Soldier is able to steal a few and he takes them back to his apartment to eat for lunch. He decides they taste good so he writes it down in his book.

After that several pages of the book become devoted to things he’s discovered about himself. The Soldier finds that he likes canned peaches, science fiction novels, afternoon naps (when his tortured brain will allow), and a few popular songs he hears on the radio in public places. He doesn’t know why he enjoys these things, only that he does. He decides not to question that for now because there is a more pressing matter to attend to, namely the memories of one Steve Rogers.

The Soldier can just barely remember him as part of a life he’s not even sure he ever lived. Steve features in a few of his dreams and memories, sometimes as a small and delicate blonde boy and other times as a large and muscular man. They must have known each other a long time.

_“Bucky, you’ve known me your entire life.”_

The Soldier comes across an interview with Captain America in a magazine he finds at a store checkout. He steals it to rip out one of the glossy colour photos and places that in his book. A few pages get devoted solely to things he can remember about Steve but there isn’t much to go on. His first memories are only some vague snippets of a tiny but fiercely determined man who used to get himself into trouble a lot. The Soldier thinks he may have rescued Steve from a bully once or twice but he’s not sure. He puts that down in the book with a question mark. It will need to be explored later.

Then Steve became Captain America. The museum exhibit says they fought together in a war. It describes them as close friends who were really more like brothers to each other, friends who were separated only by death during a snowy afternoon in 1944. The Soldier puzzles this over and then decides that it’s a fact. Steve wouldn’t have acted so sure of their friendship on the helicarrier if it wasn’t.

_“I’m not gonna fight you. You’re my friend.”_

The Soldier wants to believe that but he doesn’t trust anyone, not even himself. People should fear him. They should want him dead. Even if he was once Bucky Barnes he can no longer be that man, having been stripped of his humanity. The Soldier decides to stay where he is for the time being to lay low. He keeps a bag of provisions hidden underneath a loose floor board in case he needs to run though because it’s only a matter of time before someone finds him.

It doesn’t take long before someone does. The Soldier enters his apartment one day and readies himself for a fight when he sees a tall blonde man standing in front of his fridge. He’s got the Soldier’s book in his hands and it’s open to the page with the magazine picture. He sets it down slowly and lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Do you know me?” he asks.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum,” the Soldier says, too afraid of giving away any more information.

“I know you’re nervous and you have plenty of reason to be but you’re lying. You pulled me from the river. Why?”

“I don’t know,” the Soldier insists. He carefully backs away until he’s put the couch between them for protection.

“Yes, you do. You remember something, don’t you?”

“I don’t want any trouble and I don’t want to hurt you. Leave now and forget you ever saw me,” the Soldier snarls.

Steve steps forward a few paces and the Soldier retreats again. “I’m not going to leave you, not again. I know you remember something. You didn’t just pull me from the river for no reason. Let me help you.”

The Soldier doesn’t move. He keeps an eye on the back door, calculating whether or not he can get to his bag of provisions and escape while causing a minimal amount of damage. “The museum said we were friends,” he says with forced casualness.

He steps to the left to get a clearer view of the door. If he punches through the loose floor board with his prosthetic arm he can be out the door with his bag in seconds. He just has to move at the right time. He needs to keep Steve talking.

“We were and we can still be friends if you just let me help you. I know that Hydra’s looking for you. I’ve been keeping tabs on the splinter organization that’s left and one of their main goals is to find and capture you. Luckily for us they aren’t doing a very good job of it. I can guarantee your safety, take you to a place where they can’t get to you, but you need to be okay with relying on me,” Steve tells him.

The Soldier means to say something to distract Steve. He’s fairly certain he can make his escape in seconds if he just says the right thing. What tumbles out instead is, “How can you trust me?”

“Because I know you. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone if you don’t have to. I know that you’re just looking for a place where you can find peace and to heal and start remembering who you are again. All you have to do is come with me,” Steve offers.

It’s so tempting. The Soldier is tired. He doesn’t want to run anymore. He doesn’t want to keep looking over his shoulder to make sure that Hydra isn’t following him to try to reclaim their Asset. There’s a certain value in his complete freedom though. He frowns. “This place, is it a prison?” he asks.

“No, it’s my home.”

“You won’t try to hold me there, will you? What if I decide I want to leave?” The idea of escape is still in his mind’s eye but he puts that to one side for a second.

Steve smiles. “You’ll have complete control over your life. It’s just a place for you to live. You have my word.”

The Soldier shoves away the idea of escape now. The place that Steve’s describing sounds like heaven would if he believed in it at all. The idea of not having to worry about Hydra is what sways his decision. He swallows hard and whispers, “Okay.”

Steve’s smiling again. “Let’s get your things. There’s a jet waiting at the airport to take us home.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Soldier is quiet during the flight to Steve’s home. He stares out the window, watching the scenery go by, and says nothing, already starting to feel regret creeping in. He’s not sure why he said yes to living with Steve but something inside of him says that he can trust the man next to him. It’s the same thing that he felt on the helicarrier, that Steve is extremely important to him even if he’s not entirely sure of how or why. The museum said they were friends but the Soldier wonders if there’s something more than that. There’s something he just can’t put his finger on.

"Bucky, are you all right?” Steve asks, then winces. “Never mind, stupid question.”

The Soldier turns to him and says, “I’m not Bucky Barnes. I know I look like him, sound like him, even have some of his memories but I’m not him. If I ever was they took that away so I couldn’t be anymore.”

Steve looks pained but the Soldier knows he needs to hear the truth. “If you could be Bucky again, would you want to be?”

The Soldier considers this for a moment but isn’t sure what to say. “It’d be a hell of lot better than being Hydra’s murder puppet,” he mutters eventually. He’s puzzled when his companion lets out a chuckle.

Steve takes in his confused expression and says, “You’re more Bucky than you think.” The Soldier doesn’t know what to say to that so he returns to staring out the window.

When the jet touches down it’s on a massive landing pad on top the tallest tower the Soldier has ever seen. “Where are we?” he asks as they prepare to disembark.

“Avengers Tower in New York. Come on, I’ll show you our floor.” Steve motions for the Soldier to follow him.

“We have a floor?” the Soldier asks, unable to keep the interest out of his voice. For nearly as long as he can remember he’s only had the cramped confines of the cryo tube and his apartment in Romania was very sparse. The idea of having an entire floor to themselves in this giant high-rise building is almost unfathomable.

Steve smiles at him. “I know. When I first moved here I couldn’t believe this place either.” He leads the Soldier into an elevator just across from the landing pad and pushes the button for the twentieth floor.

The Soldier nearly jumps a foot when a disembodied voice from the ceiling says, “Good morning Captain Rogers. I shall inform sir of your return.” Steve reaches over and puts a hand on the Soldier’s shoulder to steady him but the Soldier jerks himself away as though he’s been burned.

“Sorry,” Steve apologizes, snatching his hand back quickly. “That’s JARVIS, the A.I. Tony built him to help take care of things around here.”

“Tony’s your…teammate?” the Soldier guesses.

Steve smiles. “He is but I prefer to think of him as a friend first. I have lots of friends at the tower. When you’re ready maybe you can meet some of them.”

“I don’t know,” the Soldier says wearily. He’s starting to feel incredibly nervous. Maybe this was a terrible idea. Maybe he should have run, even if it meant spending the rest of his life trying to hide from both Hydra and Steve.

As if reading his thoughts, Steve says, “Don’t worry, everyone here is great. I’m sure it’ll be fine once you’ve settled in.”

The elevator dings as it stops at their floor and the Soldier is lead into a room that would completely dwarf his meager apartment in Romania. He wanders away from Steve and goggles at the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over New York in the living room.

The space is tastefully decorated in shades of blue and white with comfortable looking furniture, a huge TV, and the most impressive chandelier the Soldier has ever seen, although he doesn’t have anything to compare it to. Due to the open design, the kitchen is visible across the room. The Soldier spots a polished oak table that could comfortably seat a dozen people, a breakfast bar, dark cabinets, and stainless steel appliances.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Steve says from beside him.

“Yeah,” is all the Soldier can manage to say. He lets Steve guide him to the hallway where the bedrooms are.

“The bathroom is through here,” Steve says, pushing open a door that reveals a room twice as big as the Soldier’s former apartment. He briefly catches a glimpse of a large jacuzzi tub and a glass-encased shower before he follows Steve to the bedrooms.

“Mine’s the one at the very end of the hall on the left. You can either have the one next to the bathroom or the one next to mine,” Steve says.

The Soldier opens the door next to the bathroom and, as he catches sight of a sickeningly pale green colour, he feels his breathing quicken as panic begins to set in. He slams the door shut with a bang.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” Steve asks, suddenly close enough to touch but not in physical contact.

“The green…it…Hydra,” the Soldier gasps.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. Just take a deep breath, okay?” Steve says gently.

The Soldier closes his eyes and sucks in a gulp of air. “The place where they kept me…with the chair…it was the same colour.” He opens his eyes and finds Steve staring at him with his brow furrowed in worry.

“JARVIS, can you send someone up to repaint that room?”

“Of course Captain Rogers. I will notify sir’s maintenance crew right away.”

“I’m sorry about that, Bucky. I didn’t even think about-”

“It’s fine. You didn’t know,” the Soldier rasps.

“The other room is red. Is that okay? If not, you can sleep in my room while we get one of the others repainted,” Steve offers.

The Soldier doesn’t understand why the Captain is being so accommodating. He’s been nothing but kind since their meeting back in Romania yet he can’t figure out any sort of motive or trick behind it.

“It’s okay,” he insists. Steve is looking at him with something that looks suspiciously like pity. The Soldier doesn’t want it. He opens the door to the bedroom next to Steve’s and is pleased to see that the walls are a bright red with black and white accents. In the middle of the room is a giant black four poster bed made up with crisp white linens. A fluffy white rug decorates the floor and there’s a full bookshelf next to a black and white overstuffed chair with red pillows. A white chest of drawers sits at the foot of the bed.

The Soldier drifts over to the bed and runs his flesh hand over the bedding. There are so many soft things in Steve’s home, which seems like an indecent amount of luxury to him. He looks up to see the man watching him from the doorway. “It’s nice,” the Soldier says, not knowing what else to say.

Steve smiles at him again and the Soldier finds it disconcerting. It’s bizarre to think that this man might know him better than he knows himself. He drops his eyes and sits down on the bed, unsure of what to do next and feeling like he doesn’t belong in such an opulent space. “I think I’m going to get some pizza. Are you hungry?” Steve asks.

The Soldier nods. “Yes.” He’s been starving for nearly two hours now but he’s been too afraid to ask for anything, nervous that if he causes any sort of trouble Steve might not want him here. He’s not used to others accommodating him in any way. To ask for the smallest of considerations is something he just can’t do at the moment.

“I’m just going to make a call and then I’ll be right back,” Steve says. He steps out of the room.

The Soldier sits there in silence and stares at his feet. He doesn’t belong here. He briefly thinks about running again but realizes that if he’d really wanted to he would have escaped when he had the chance back in Romania. He doesn’t understand it but he really wants to be with Steve, even if he has to be somewhere where he doesn’t feel comfortable. Steve’s kindness is drawing him like a moth to a flame.

The Soldier surmises that it’s because Steve is the first person close to him in recent memory who’s treated him like a human being instead of a killing machine. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen; all he knows is that he wants more of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve manages to coax the Soldier out into the living room to sit on the couch while they wait for their pizza. He gingerly takes a seat on the plush fabric, watching as his companion turns on the TV.

“I have a list of movies and TV shows everyone thinks I should watch. I’m working my way through Disney movies right now,” Steve explains as he checks a small book that was sitting on the end table. “Next on the list is Moana.”

The Soldier doesn’t know what he’s referring to but watches with interest as Steve turns on something called Netflix. Moana turns out to be a brightly coloured children’s movie and, as he watches the opening story of Te Fiti unfold, he finds himself fascinated. Unconsciously he relaxes into the couch cushions and even tucks one leg under himself as he’s often fond of doing when sitting. He becomes totally engrossed, nearly forgetting where he is until about thirty minutes in, when JARVIS cuts in, saying, “Captain Rogers, your delivery is here.”

Steve pauses the movie. “I’m just going to put this on hold for a couple of minutes. I’ll be right back,” he says before heading to the elevator.

The Soldier stands up and stretches his limbs. It feels good after being in the same position for so long. He resumes his seat on the couch and sits in silence, patiently waiting for Steve to return because he’s unsure of what’s required of him in this sort of situation. Is he allowed to touch anything when Steve’s not here? He decides to play it safe. In a few minutes the elevator sounds and the doors open to reveal Steve, who’s carrying a towering stack of pizza boxes in one hand and attempting to balance two large cups in the other.

He sets the cups down on the coffee table. “Here, one of these sodas is yours.”

The Soldier reaches out to cautiously take the cup and pops the lid off. He takes a tentative sip and is pleasantly surprised at the sugary taste. He can’t remember having drunk anything like this before. In Romania he limited himself to what he could easily steal and was somewhat familiar with, which didn’t include a very wide variety of food and drink. Steve puts four pizza boxes in a pile in front of the Soldier and flips the lid open on the one on top.

“I ordered pepperoni for you. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember but it was your favourite when we were kids,” he says. He puts the remaining four boxes next to his own soda and then disappears into the kitchen. When he returns he has a plate for each of them and some napkins. 

The Soldier quickly realizes that pizza is meant to be a finger food when he watches Steve grab two slices and put them on his plate. He follows suit and takes a bite, amazed by how good it tastes. He’s mostly used to bland tastes and textures but now he thinks he understands why some people see food as more than just fuel for a mission. Steve presses play on the DVD remote again.

On screen Moana’s grandmother is dying. She passes on the heart of Te Fiti and instructs her granddaughter to find Maui, which makes the Soldier marvel at the closeness between the two. He can’t ever remember a time when someone treated him with such love and respect and he wonders what that would feel like. He supposes that the closest he’s come so far would be the way Steve has been treating him since they met again.

The two of them manage to polish off all eight boxes of pizza as they watch Moana leave her island, set off across the sea to find Maui, and manage to get herself into a myriad of trouble of along the way. When the kakamora show up on screen the Soldier lets out a wheezy, barking sound and it takes him a moment to realize what it is - laughter. He can’t remember doing it before but he thinks he likes the way it makes him feel. Steve grins at him. The movie takes a more serious tone after that but the Soldier doesn’t mind.

He decides he likes that Moana doesn’t give up, even when she’s abandoned and alone in the middle of the ocean feeling like a failure. The Soldier knows all about surviving in the darkest of moments. He feels himself cheering silently as she completes her goal, restoring the heart to Te Fiti, and then returns home a hero. By the time the credits roll he and Steve are both smiling.

“That was a good one,” Steve says, turning off the screen. “I’ll have to thank Natasha for adding that to my list.”

“Natasha? Is she your girl?” The Soldier asks curiously. 

“No, we’re just friends. I’m not seeing anyone.” Steve clears up the pizza boxes and heads towards the trash chute, leaving the Soldier sitting on the couch in silence again. When he returns he says, “I guess it’s getting a bit late. I’m gonna get ready for bed but if you wanna stay up, go ahead. You can watch another movie if you want. JARVIS can help you if you have trouble with the remote.”

The Soldier’s not sure what he wants to do and he fidgets nervously, twisting his hands in his lap. Eventually he decides that it would probably be a bad idea to stay up when Steve isn’t present. “No, I’m tired. I should sleep too.” He follows Steve down the hall and then retreats into his room.

“I’m just going to brush my teeth and then the bathroom’s all yours,” Steve calls from the hallway. 

The Soldier roots around in his bag and pulls out the few grooming tools he’s managed to collect over the course of his time on the run. He’s got a toothbrush and razor, along with some shampoo, toothpaste, and shaving cream that he stole during one of his trips to the store in Romania. He doesn’t need to shower tonight but he thinks that when he does Steve will probably be generous enough to lend him a bar of soap later on. The sound of the bathroom door opening draws his attention. The Soldier quickly moves down the hall with his toothbrush in hand and meets Steve coming out into the hallway. 

“If you need anything I’m right next door. It’s okay if you have to wake me up,” he says. 

“Okay,” the Soldier replies.

Steve bids him goodnight, then disappears into his room and closes the door. The Soldier proceeds into the bathroom and avoids looking at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth. For some reason he hates mirrors. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like looking at his scars. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like to be reminded that he’s wearing a dead man’s face. The Soldier uses the toilet, brushes his teeth, and then retreats to his bedroom. Once he’s there, however, he’s not entirely sure what he should do. 

He generally doesn’t sleep much due to the nightmares and just not being used to a bed. He remembers that on missions sleeping was forbidden, while returning to base meant being frozen in the cryo chamber. The mattress he had in Bucharest was stolen from beside a nearby dumpster where someone had left it for pickup. The Soldier put it on two pallets and added a sleeping bag on top of it, opting not to bother with any sort of linens.

The bed in this new room is too soft and covered in too many blankets, pillows, and sheets. The Soldier pulls most of them off, folds them up, and leaves them on the chair in the corner in favour of only one blanket and pillow. He turns out the light and tries curling up on the mattress but he’s immediately uncomfortable. The room is too dark and the mattress feels like lying on a cloud. The Soldier reaches out to turn on the bedside lamp. That solves the problem of the darkness but the mattress is still too squishy for his liking. He resolves to endure it and curls up in the fetal position.

It takes a long time but the Soldier eventually falls asleep. He dreams about being on the helicarrier with Steve, only this Steve is a much smaller and weaker version who doesn’t have his shield. “Bucky you’ve known me your whole life. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. I’m not gonna fight you. You’re my friend,” he says desperately.

The Soldier lunges at him, tackles him to the floor of the helicarrier, and starts to violently beat him. “You’re my mission!” Steve’s fragile bones snap beneath the Soldier’s hands and he begins to bleed profusely. The Soldier can’t stop. He keeps beating Steve, howling with fury, even when he knows the smaller man is dead. He’s distantly aware of someone screaming.

“Bucky!” a familiar voice cuts through the room. “Bucky, wake up!”

The Soldier springs out of bed and rolls across the floor into a defensive stance, ready to kill whoever is in the room with him, thinking he’s being attacked. First the bad dream and now this. They’ve finally come for him but he won’t let them take him away.

“It’s me, it’s Steve! You’re safe! You’re in the tower and you’re safe!” the man across the room shouts at him.

The Soldier frowns and relaxes his posture. He’s on the other side of the room from Steve with the bed in between them. The blanket and pillow he curled up with earlier are now crumpled on the floor and the lamp on the nightstand is broken. Steve must have flipped the light switch because it’s suddenly blindingly bright. The Soldier sucks in a jagged breath. He takes one look at the broken lamp and then raises stricken eyes to Steve’s face.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry, I…I…sorry,” he manages to gasp. He wonders if he’ll be punished. Maybe Steve will be so angry that he’ll make the Soldier leave or maybe there will be some sort of physical punishment first. Hydra would never allow such a failure to go undisciplined and he wonders if Steve is the same way. The Soldier backs away even further.

“It’s okay, Bucky. It was just a bad dream,” Steve says as he carefully edges his way around the bed.

Here it comes. The Soldier knows that he has to take responsibility for his actions so he drops to his knees and puts his hands behind his head in a gesture of submission. “Is this okay?” he asks. Normally he isn’t allowed to speak when being punished but he needs to know what Steve requires so he can assume the appropriate posture next time.

“Bucky, what are you-?” Steve manages to say and then it dawns on him. A look of shock slides across his face as he looks at the Soldier and then the broken lamp.

“How would you prefer me?” the Soldier asks. Steve opens his mouth to say something but seems to think better of it and then shakes his head. The Solider is surprised when Steve drops to his knees in front of him.

“Bucky, it’s okay, don’t worry about the lamp. It was an accident. I can get a new one,” he says softly.

The Soldier blinks at him in surprise. “You’re not angry?”

“No, no of course not. I have nightmares too sometimes and the serum makes them more vivid. It’s easy to break something in your sleep. I’ve done it once or twice myself,” Steve reassures him.

“They get really bad sometimes.” The Soldier is having a hard time looking Steve in the eye. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Buck?” Steve asks. 

The Soldier shakes his head. “Stop calling me that. I’m not him. I almost killed you,” he says more sharply than he intends to.

“Okay. You do need a name though. What do you want me to call you?” 

“I don’t have a name. I’m Hydra’s Asset, the Winter Soldier.”

“You’re not anymore. You don’t have to be used as a weapon ever again and you can choose who you want to be now,” Steve insists. 

The Soldier thinks about it for a moment. He doesn’t want any ties to his former status with Hydra but he doesn’t think he can be Bucky Barnes anymore either. Neither of them feel like the real him at the moment but he isn’t too keen on just choosing a random name. “James,” he says finally. “We’ll go with that for now.”

“Okay, James it is,” Steve agrees. He gets to his feet and holds out his hand. “What do you normally do when you have a nightmare? Are you able to go back to sleep after awhile or do you stay awake?” 

The Soldier - no, James - ignores the outstretched hand and gets to his feet. He tells himself he’ll just have to think of it as a code name, a much better one than Hydra’s goons ever gave him for missions. “Normally I walk around the apartment for a bit and then if I don’t go back to sleep, I read.”

“Do you want me to stay up with you for a bit? I know it’s your first night in an unfamiliar place and all,” Steve offers. 

“I’ll be okay. I don’t want to disturb your sleep. I’ll just uh, fix the lamp and then see if I can try sleeping again,” James says, hoping he sounds nonchalant about the whole thing.

Steve frowns but doesn’t comment. “I’ll grab the garbage from the kitchen. I think the lamp’s done for.” He disappears from the room.

The Soldier - no, James, he reminds himself, sits on the bed and waits. He’s chewing on his lower lip, a nervous habit of his that he’s not sure where he picked up. He doesn’t want Steve to see just how badly the nightmare rattled him because he knows there will be a lot of questions involved and Steve might even want to touch him. He isn’t ready for that yet. Some things he needs to keep to himself until he can begin to sort them out properly.

Steve comes back with the garbage can, sweeps the lamp into it, and then picks up the shards that are lying on the floor. Thankfully the base didn’t shatter, it only broke into a few larger pieces. “I’ll get the lamp from the guest room for you,” Steve says. James doesn’t move. He watches silently as Steve retrieves the lamp from across the hall and sets it down on the nightstand. “Are you sure you’re all right Bu-I mean James?” Steve hovers in the doorway with the kitchen garbage dangling from one hand. 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll just try to sleep again,” James lies. 

Steve nods but looks skeptical. “Okay. If you need me I’m right next door,” he says before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

James turns on the lamp and then shuts off the blinding glow of the overhead light. He doesn’t go back to sleep. Instead he fishes his notebook and a pen from his bag and writes the nightmare down where it will join the others he’s endured. He spends the rest of the night sitting in the arm chair.


	4. Chapter 4

The Soldier - no, James (he’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to that), wakes with a start. He realizes that he must have nodded off at some point in the chair because his neck is sore. He stands up and stretches before exiting the room to look for Steve. The clock in his bedroom says that it’s seven o’clock, plus Steve’s bedroom door is open so he must be up by now. 

James looks in and sees a room painted in a pale blue colour with a white platform bed in the center. He doesn’t want to invade Steve’s space but curiosity gets the better of him and he creeps a little further through the doorway. There’s a desk in the corner that holds a laptop and what looks like a myriad of work related documents, several shelves that hold art supplies, and a bookshelf that’s crammed with what looks like a mixture of novels and sketchbooks. The walls are decorated with drawings and paintings that are amazingly beautiful. Steve clearly has a lot of talent.

James decides that the room looks inviting. It’s like someone lives here, not just a place to sleep. He wonders if he’ll be allowed to make his room look like that and surmises that Steve would probably allow it. A noise from the living room draws his attention so heads in that direction. It wouldn’t do to be caught trespassing in a room that he’s not meant to be in. 

James moves as stealthily as possible, trying to gauge whether the person on their floor is a threat or not. He knows that more likely than not it’s going to be Steve but some leftover habits from his time as the Winter Soldier have yet to die. He creeps into the kitchen. What he doesn’t expect is to come face to face with a red haired woman sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. He’s confused when she greets him in Russian.

"Good morning.”

“Hello,” James answers back in Russian. “Do you not speak English?”

The red haired woman smiles at him and says, in English this time, “I thought you might be more comfortable speaking Russian. I’m Natasha.” 

“James,” he says. He feels a little ridiculous just standing there but he’s not sure what else to do. 

“Steve’s gone for a run. He goes every morning but he probably won’t be much longer so I thought I’d just come up and wait for him,” Natasha says. 

James edges into the kitchen and wonders if there’s anything to eat because he’s starving again. He hopes that’s allowed. Steve wasn’t angry with him for breaking the lamp last night so he likely won’t mind James feeding himself, right?

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Natasha asks. 

James shakes his head. “Just got up.” 

Natasha stands and moves the empty stool beside her around the other side of the breakfast bar. “Have a seat. I’m going to make bacon and eggs.”

James realizes she understands without words that he’s uncomfortable with being in close physical proximity to someone. Maybe she knows from experience since she certainly doesn’t give off a demeanor of being sweet and cuddly. James watches as she pulls a carton of eggs and a package of bacon out of the fridge. 

“I know what it’s like to be suddenly free and have no idea what to do with yourself,” Natasha says suddenly while rummaging in the cupboard for a frying pan. 

“How?” James asks. 

She puts the frying pan on the stove and turns up the heat. “I was Red Room. I got pretty much the same treatment you did before I made my escape.”

“Did they take your memories?” James questions eagerly. He’s never met anyone else who’s had their memories erased before and it would be comforting to know that someone else knows how it feels.

“Worse. They gave me false ones.” Natasha starts cracking eggs into the pan.

James doesn’t know what to say to that so he just murmurs, “That’s awful.”

Natasha just shrugs. “It’s a bitch to figure out what’s real and what’s not once you finally escape but at some point you’ll get enough bits and pieces back that you can sort of cobble together a life for yourself.”

“Maybe,” James says with a shake of his head. “I don’t think I can be Bucky Barnes again but I feel like I have to try for Steve. I know he’s hoping that person is still in there somewhere but I feel like I’m living in a complete stranger’s body.”

“If you ever want to go back to being Bucky don’t do it for Steve. Do it because it’s what you want. You’ve already had a lifetime of people fucking with your head and you deserve to exist on your own terms,” Natasha cautions. 

James doesn’t know how to tell her about the feelings brewing inside of him regarding Steve. He’s not entirely sure that he doesn’t want to be what Steve wants him to be. There’s something about the man that he just can’t put his finger on and it’s bothering him. He’s saved from replying by the sound of the elevator though. Steve steps out and grins when he spies the two of them across the room. 

“Hey Nat, come up to raid my fridge again?” he asks cheerfully, draping an arm over her shoulders and dragging her into a side hug. James wonders what that would feel like. He realizes that it probably wouldn’t hurt since he’s seen people who are friends and teammates engage in physical contact before as a form of affection. It must feel nice. 

Natasha wrinkles her nose and pushes Steve away. “Eww Rogers, you’re all sweaty. Go shower.” 

“In a minute. Is this a social call or am I going to be dragged into another mission involving alien shape shifters?” Steve asks. 

Natasha busies herself with lifting some eggs out of the pan and onto a plate. “Nope, totally a social call. Haven’t seen you in weeks, plus I have no food in my own fridge at the moment,” she says.

Steve turns to James as if just realizing he’s there and asks, “How are you feeling?” 

“Good, fine,” he says a little too quickly. He’s not about to tell Steve that he spent the night sleeping in the chair, not in front of Natasha anyways. 

Steve frowns but doesn’t pry. “I’ll be back in ten,” he tells them and disappears down the hall. The sound of the bathroom door shutting follows a moment later.

James observes as Natasha finishes cooking the eggs and then starts on the bacon. He’s starving and the smell is really starting to get to him but he waits patiently. He knows it would probably be okay to ask if he could have something to eat now but the punishment for asking for things is still too fresh in his mind. It’s one of the few things he remembers with absolute clarity.

“So, are you gonna tell me what the deal is with you and Steve?” Natasha prods a slice of bacon around in the pan. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” James keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the countertop. 

“What do you remember?” she asks. 

“He used to be smaller and he got into a lot of trouble. The exhibit at the museum said we were friends and I think maybe that’s true. He acts like I should know him,” James blurts out. 

“He didn’t talk about you much when he thought you were dead but I know enough to know that you meant a lot to him. One time he told me that even when he had nothing of value to his name he still had you,” Natasha says softly. 

“You mean he had Bucky Barnes,” James corrects her. 

She doesn’t reply for a moment as she lifts strips of crispy bacon out of the pan and adds them to a new plate before starting to fry more. Then she says, “Do you remember anything about your past life?”

“Just random things.” James shrugs.

“Such as?” Natasha prompts.

“I like sci-fi novels,” James says confusedly. “I used to get them from a library back in Bucharest and read them at night when I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Is that something Hydra put inside you?” Natasha pokes at the bacon again.

“Probably not. They only put in commands to make me do what they wanted or information for missions. Nothing else was important to them,” James says. 

“Things like that are going to happen to you more and more as you stay out in the world. You might get little bits of Bucky Barnes bleeding through here and there. It’s up to you to decide what you do with that,” Natasha tells him. 

James is about to ask what exactly she’s getting at but the bathroom door opens and Steve pads down the hall into and into the kitchen. “Is the bacon done? I’m famished.” 

Natasha passes him a plate piled with scrambled eggs and bacon and then sets one down in front of James. Steve takes the seat across from him and begins shoveling food into his mouth while Natasha perches next to him. “Ugh, you have no manners Steve. Can’t take you anywhere.” 

“Ay, ’m ‘ungry,” Steve says through a mouthful of food.

She laughs and flicks a piece of scrambled egg at him with her fork. James finds himself smiling and he can’t repress a snicker. Natasha winks at him. She hangs around for another hour or so and chats with Steve, occasionally trying to draw James into conversation but he feels awkward with small talk and doesn’t have much to say. It’s hard to get used to speaking for anything other than acquiescing to a demand or giving a mission report. Eventually Natasha makes her excuses, hugs Steve, and says good-bye to them both. Despite his aversion to touch, James feels a bit bereft at his own lack of hug but tries to brush it off. 

Now that they’re alone, Steve gives him an appraising look and says, “Are those the only clothes you have?” 

“I have two pairs of jeans, two shirts, a pair of socks, two pairs of underwear, and a hat,” James lists off. 

“You didn’t steal more clothes when you were in Romania?” 

“They weren’t stolen. I got them from a donation center for homeless people. I only stole what I needed to feed myself. I hated doing it but I didn’t have any sort of identification and couldn’t risk the paper trail,” James answers.

“We’ll get you some new stuff. I just have to make some arrangements.” 

James hesitates for a moment. “I don’t have any money,” he says apologetically. 

“I’ve got plenty. Being given military back pay after being frozen for seventy years means I can afford just about anything these days.” Steve gives him a wry smile.

James doesn’t want to take Steve’s charity but it would be nice to have more clothes, maybe even get to choose ones that he likes for once. He swallows hard. “Okay.”

Steve smiles at him. “We’ll get working on that after breakfast.”


	5. Chapter 5

Steve talks to JARVIS, who calls someone named Pepper for him. They have a long discussion that James only listens to half of and then decide that Pepper will co-ordinate having clothes delivered to the tower. James is forced to stand very still so JARVIS can scan his measurements, then Steve tells him he’s free to do whatever he likes. Not knowing what to do with himself, James sits down on the couch and asks JARVIS to play Moana again.

Later that afternoon, after he’s re-watched Moana twice and then a few other Disney movies suggested by JARVIS, Steve tells him they’re going to the eighteenth floor. He guides James into a large conference room at the end of the hall, where there are racks and racks of clothing everywhere, covering nearly every available square of inch of floor space and James stops short, goggling at the sheer amount of it all.

Steve grins at him. “All of this stuff is in your size. You can pick whatever you like and then the rest will be donated to charity as a tax-write off for Stark Industries.”

James finally wipes the look of wide-eyed wonder off his face and says, “I can pick anything?” 

“Anything you like and as much of it as you like,” Steve reassures him. “I know it’s a lot to take in since we never had two cents to rub together as kids.”

“We were poor?” James asks. 

Steve nods. “Extremely poor. We lived together and you had a job at the docks. I’d get a job and work for awhile, maybe a few months at most, and then I’d get sick and get fired. We just barely scraped by.” 

James frowns. “It must be strange, living in all this luxury now.” 

“It’s a little hard to get used to but it’s nice. I had my own apartment in Brooklyn for awhile but some idiot filled it full of bullet holes,” Steve says. He grins. 

“It was me, wasn’t it?” 

Steve laughs. “Yeah, it was.” 

James wanders over to a random rack of clothing and starts looking at the shirts on it. He feels completely overwhelmed and lost. There are just too many choices. 

Steve sees his distress and takes over. “Let’s get you some jeans first.”

They make their way around the room, picking up jeans, shirts, sweaters, and jackets. James notes that Steve is careful not to choose for him, often asking him if he likes something before picking it up. When they’re done he finds himself stuffed into a makeshift dressing room partitioned off in the corner with everything in his hands but isn’t sure what he should do next. The clothes look nice on their hangers but he realizes he doesn’t have the slightest clue of how to put together an outfit. Back in Romania he wore whatever was clean enough and didn’t give it a second thought. 

“Just grab something from each pile and try it on. If it fits we’ll keep it,” Steve says helpfully from outside the door. 

That he can do. “Okay,” James agrees. He undresses and puts on the first shirt he grabs and a random pair of jeans, then opens the door and steps out into the conference room. “What do you think?” 

“You look good,” Steve answers. 

James catches sight of himself in a nearby mirror and is taken aback by how right his companion is. He looks like he could pass for any other person on the street, save for the metal hand poking out of his sleeve. Feeling pleased with himself, he wanders over to the mirror and turns to examine his body from several different angles. Then he catches sight of Steve behind him, smirking. “What?”

“Seventy years later and you’re still staring at yourself in the mirror. You were always a bit vain,” Steve teases.

James stops short. Something triggers in his brain, a spark of memory that gradually gets brighter until it explodes into full blown colour.

_He’s standing in front of the mirror combing his hair, trying to get the perfect placement of each strand. A much tinier Steve Rogers is sitting on the end of the bed, a sketchbook propped up on his knees._

_“You know if you stare at yourself any closer you’re going to go cross-eyed,” he says._

_“Shut up, punk,” Bucky says affectionately. “I’ve gotta look good for my date tonight.”_

_Steve puts his pencil down and eyes Bucky with curiosity. “Where’d you meet this one?”_

_“Dance hall.”_

_“She pretty?” Steve asks._

_Bucky shrugs. “I think so. I’d had a bit too much when she gave me her number so I’m kind a fuzzy on the details. Seemed nice though.”_

_“Poor woman. She must have really been desperate if she gave a drunk slob like you her number,” Steve needles him._

_“Knock it off. She might have a friend and then I can get you a date. Maybe you can get out for once,” Bucky chides._

_Steve chucks a pillow at him in retaliation._

James comes back to himself with a gasp. He’s leaning against the mirror with his metal hand, breathing heavily. He can hear Steve saying, “James, are you all right?” 

He straightens up and turns around. “I-I…” he fumbles. 

_You might get little bits of Bucky Barnes bleeding through here and there,_ Natasha’s voice echos in his head.

“You’re safe, you’re in the tower with me.” Steve’s hovering nearby, close enough to touch but not making contact, though he clearly wants to. 

James turns around and whispers, “It was so real.” 

“You had a flashback,” Steve guesses. 

“Yeah…yeah I guess,” James breathes. Even though he’s not terrified by the events of the flashback, the realness of it has him shaken. He realizes that his whole body is so taut that he’s trembling and sweat is beginning to bead on his forehead. 

“Maybe we should leave. Go and get changed and we can get out of here,” Steve suggests. 

“But you said I needed clothes,” James says confusedly. He doesn’t want to give up what he’s wearing because he feels good in it. The idea of not having to worry about washing his current paltry wardrobe is something he’s thinking about as well since it requires doing laundry as often as possible to make sure his clothes are clean. 

“I guess,” Steve concedes. “What you’re wearing fits all right so it looks like JARVIS did pretty well with the sizing. Just get changed and then we’ll grab whatever else you like and get going.” 

James disappears back into the dressing room and puts on the clothes he came in with. When he steps out again, Steve grabs the clothes from the dressing room, then follows him around the room, letting James pile an ever growing mountain of stuff into his arms, including several t-shirts, two hoodies, a coat, more jeans than he could wear in a week, and some comfortable sweatpants. Steve adds socks and underwear to the pile, then helps him carry it all back to their floor. 

In the elevator he chatters away about everything and nothing but James doesn’t answer. His brain is too busy attempting to process the vivid memory that he just experienced. He maintains his silence until they’re back on their own floor. Steve is snipping the tags off of his new clothes with a pair of scissors, then handing them to James to fold, which he’s just marginally succeeding at. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did you remember?” Steve says suddenly. 

“When you said I was vain I remembered that you used to make fun of me for that when you were smaller. I think I was going out somewhere with…a girl?” James wonders. He looks up now and sees the corners of Steve’s mouth quirk up. 

“Of all the things to remember,” he says fondly. “Yes, you did go out with girls on dates and lots of them. Girls were always interested in you. Me, not so much.”

“They were idiots,” James declares and he doesn’t know where that comes from. It just seems like the right thing to say. 

Steve rolls his eyes.“You used to say that too. You’d arrange some double date for us and talk me up and then when I’d get there the dames would be disappointed. Nobody ever really saw me back then, except you.” 

James balls up the edge of his shirt in his metal fist. Something feels wrong inside of him. His heart’s still beating quickly and there’s an odd flutter in his stomach. Steve notices but doesn’t bring much attention to it, other than to say, “Maybe you should lie down for a bit. It seems like that flashback was really hard on you.” 

When they finish with the clothes, James gingerly lays down on the bed. He’s not sure that it’s going to help but it’s what Steve wants him to do so he does it. He knows it’s not a direct order and he doesn’t have to obey but can’t seem to fully wrap his mind around that at the moment. Steve pauses at the edge of the doorway. “Do you need anything?” 

James opens his mouth to say no but what comes out is, “Stay, please.” 

“Okay,” Steve says softly. He sits down on the edge of the bed at the foot.

James finally feels comfortable enough to close his eyes and tries to even out his breathing. After a few minutes he manages it and it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

James wakes up to find that he’s been covered by a blanket. Steve is gone so he gets up to investigate his friend’s whereabouts. He gets partway down the hall before he hears a voice coming from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know Nat, I’m kind of at a loss here. I’m trying,” Steve says. 

He’s clearly on the phone so James decides not to interrupt. He knows he really shouldn’t be eavesdropping on Steve’s conversation but he can’t bring himself to turn around and go back to his room. 

“I know….It’s just that this is probably more than PTSD. They wiped his memories. There’s no support group for that. How do I even begin to help? Yeah….yeah…okay…I know, you’re right. Email me those links and I’ll give them a read. Yeah…okay…Thanks.. See you later.” 

James pads down the hallway and out into the kitchen, where he finds Steve sitting at the breakfast bar drinking a cup of coffee. 

“Hey, are you feeling better now?” Steve greets him. 

“Fine,” James confirms as he takes the seat on the opposite side.

Steve sighs as he drops his eyes to the countertop and fiddles with the handle of his coffee cup. “You probably heard that so I’ll just be straight with you. Natasha thinks you need a therapist, someone to help you with the resurfacing memories but the problem is that it’s going to be hard to find someone who’s good at dealing with severe trauma. SHIELD used to have a psych division so we’re kind of hoping that Tony can use his connections to track someone down for us. And then there’s the whole problem of you sort of being a fugitive but not really existing. It’s complicated.” He scrubs a hand over his face. 

James takes a moment to process what Steve has just said before he replies. “What do you mean I don’t exist?” 

“Records show that you were officially declared dead in 1944. Technically you should be reclassified as a prisoner of war but being the Winter Soldier makes things messy. The world sees you as the Soldier and the Soldier is considered a fugitive right now. There are a lot of people who would like to see you captured and put on trial for your crimes,” Steve explains. 

James flexes his metal arm nervously and listens to the whirring and shifting of the machinery inside. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.” 

“I know. The world doesn’t though. That’s why I want you to stay here in the tower. I have friends here who can help and we can keep you safe until we work out what to do,” Steve says.

“Back in Bucharest you said that if I wanted to leave I could. Was that a lie?” James asks. 

“No, if you want to leave you can. I won’t stop you because it’s your life but you’d be spending the rest of it on the run. If you just stay here for awhile I promise we’ll find a way to fix this.” 

“Are you planning something?” James asks. 

“Well first order of business has been working to rebuild SHIELD without any influence from Hydra. There’s a handful of people still left who want to make that happen. Tony’s been backing it financially and a former agent by the name of Maria Hill is working as acting director right now. I have to say that I haven’t helped much because I was off looking for you,” Steve says. 

“How does that help me?” James flexes the fingers on his metal hand, watching the way the joints bend and release. 

“We’ve got access to former Hydra files. They’re heavily encrypted but Tony’s got JARVIS working on finding a solution. He thinks there might be something in there that will help exonerate you. Anything you remember can help as well,” Steve reveals.

“I don’t remember much, just the maintenance procedures and the punishments,” James mutters. 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together in worry. “Why do I not like the sound of maintenance?” 

“They’d pull me out of cryo and wake me up using some sort of codes. I’d be ready to do what they wanted and they’d give me the information for the mission to memorize. I’d go out, do whatever it was they wanted me to do, and then my handlers would bring me back in. They’d strip me down, patch up my injuries, then spray me down with a hose to clean me up and give me this really foul tasting stuff to drink. I think it was meant to be in place of food. Then they’d dress me again and I’d be put in the chair. They’d wipe my memory and I wouldn’t know anything again until the next time I woke up out of cryo,” James says with the air of someone reading from a shopping list. 

A look of horror crosses Steve’s face. “And the punishments?” 

James shrugs. “Mostly beatings and memory wipes. Pierce had a wicked backhand.” 

Steve shakes his head and he looks so distressed that James wishes for a way to comfort him. “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it,” he says in a near whisper. 

James doesn’t know how to respond. He wants to believe that he was undeserving of his treatment at the hands of Hydra but after seventy years of brainwashing it’s impossible to wrap his head around. Instead he says dully, “I survived.” 

“I’m glad you did,” Steve murmurs. 

The conversation falters after that. Steve gets up from his seat and starts fixing them some lunch. He makes grilled cheese sandwiches and cuts up some fruit for both of them, something which James enjoys very much. He’s fast finding that he loves to eat now that he’s not worrying about running all the time.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Steve says as he puts down his sandwich. 

“No.” James feels a bit apprehensive but he knows that nothing he says will put Steve off. The man hasn’t been disgusted by anything he’s had to say so far, only sorrowful at James’ predicament.

“How did you end up in Bucharest?” Steve asks. 

“You mean where did I go after I left you on the riverbank?” When Steve nods James continues with, “I went back to the bank vault and beat the shit out of the two guys left there. Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t kill them, I just hurt them pretty bad. Then I stole some weapons and I left. I hid out in the city for awhile, even stopped at the museum to see the Captain America exhibit, but I couldn’t risk being followed. I knew Hydra would be looking for me so I just kept running. I didn’t really have a plan, just kept on the move for as long as I could. I liked Bucharest, it was easy to find an apartment to squat in, and there was a low chance that anyone would find me there so I stayed. 

The corners of Steve’s mouth turn up in a tiny smile. “Didn’t work so well, did it?” 

“Only when it comes to you. You don’t give up, do you?” James shoots back. 

“Never knew when to quit,” Steve agrees.

James gives him an exaggerated look of disapproval. “You were like that when you were small, weren’t you? I think I saved you once from someone who was trying to beat you up.” 

“More than once,” Steve says and he grins. 

As the two of them finish their lunch, JARVIS says, “Captain Rogers, sir has informed me that there is a parcel for you to pick up. You may visit his floor to retrieve it.” 

“I’ll be right back,” Steve tells him. 

James finishes the last of his sandwich and then starts putting their dishes into the industrial dishwasher that resides in the kitchen. He wonders why Steve would need such a thing when only two of them live on the floor but he’s quickly learned that everything in the tower leans towards being over-the-top expensive. Unsure of how to turn the machine on, he sits down at the breakfast bar and waits for Steve to return. It doesn’t take long. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Steve says as he enters the kitchen. He hands over a plain white box emblazoned with a Stark Industries logo. 

James cautiously takes the box and lifts off the lid. Inside, packed in styrofoam, is a piece of technology unlike anything he’s ever seen before. He gives Steve a questioning look. 

“It’s a Stark Tablet. I have one myself but I asked Tony to get me an extra one because I thought you might like it. When I first came out of the ice it helped. I was able to catch up on a lot of things I’d missed.” 

“Thank-you,” James says. He wishes he could say more but he can’t find the words to adequately express just how much it means to him. Steve has been so thoughtful since he came to the tower, making sure that he has everything he needs, and James wishes he had something more to offer in return. 

“I can show you how to use it,” Steve offers. 

They spend nearly an hour sitting on the living room couch together as he shows James how to use the tablet’s various functions and points him towards some history and news sites that will help him catch up on the world at large. Once James is able to browse the internet without help, Steve leaves him to it. He spends the rest of his afternoon in various positions on the couch, looking up anything and everything that comes to mind. 

Steve wanders in and out at his leisure. Sometimes he watches a bit of tv and others he uses his own tablet or draws. Later on he coaxes James into eating some spaghetti he’s made but doesn’t comment when James eats with one hand and holds the tablet in the other. Occasionally he gets excited about a random fact he’s learned and has to share it, which greatly amuses Steve. 

“Did you know that the internet officially launched in 1983? It was originally owned by the government!”

“Steve, did you know that sea otters hold hands so they don’t drift apart when sleeping?” 

“Wow, this is crazy. During the Cold War the US and Soviet Union both had plans to nuke the moon.” 

“Steve, Steve, you have to hear this! The smallest thing ever photographed was the shadow of an atom. Isn’t that amazing?” 

“Eww, gross! Vikings used the skulls of their enemies as drinking vessels!” 

“There are no bridges over the Amazon River? Why?” 

Steve just laughs at James’ fascination with each discovery. “It’s incredible that one device holds all the information in the world, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll say.” James stays glued to the tablet long into the evening, even as Steve makes his excuses and lumbers off to bed.

“Promise you’ll put that thing down and go to sleep at some point,” Steve says, halfway down the hall. 

“Yeah, I will,” James tells him. He watches as Steve begins to retreat again and then fumbles, “Hey, would it be all right if I… I mean I kind of need to, uh, shower. Is that-is that okay?” 

Steve turns around and he’s got that pinched looking expression back on his face again. For a second James feels like maybe he’s overstepped his bounds by asking for something when he shouldn’t have but his fears are allayed when Steve says, “It’s fine, James. You’re allowed to use any area of our floor you want without asking permission.” He turns around and heads into his room. 

James turns off the tablet but his mind can’t stop thinking. Hydra’s requirement for blind obedience has taken much from him over the years but his curiosity was one thing they could never quite get rid of. 

_“That man on the bridge, who was he?”_

_“You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”_

_“I knew him.”_

James leaves the tablet on the coffee table and makes his way to the bathroom. He intends to take a quick shower but spends entirely too long marveling at the luxury of the glass enclosure. It’s big enough for a small group of people and he enjoys fiddling with the multiple shower heads, setting them all at just the right temperature to massage his skin from all angles. 

When he’s finished, he steps out of the shower, dries himself off with one of Steve’s fluffy towels, and heads back to his room. There he puts on some clean clothes and curls up in bed. Just before he drifts off he thinks that maybe the softness of the mattress isn’t so bad after all. 


	7. Chapter 7

_The Soldier waits on an embankment near a road, watching carefully for his target. Through the darkness and the trees he can make out the headlights of a car approaching and he waits to see if it matches the description he’s been given. When it emerges into view, he realizes that it’s the one he’s been waiting for. He turns on the headlight on his motorcycle._

_The Soldier follows along behind the car and then pulls up along side it. He pulls out his knife, then uses his metal arm to deftly puncture the front tire, sending the car careening off the side of the road and crashing into a tree. The Soldier pulls his motorcycle around and surveys the wreckage. He’s been told to make it look like an accident. All survivors must be killed and then he is to steal the suitcase. He opens the trunk and finds that what he’s after is there. Good. It can wait until he checks on the targets._

_A man has climbed out of the driver’s side door and is crawling on the ground. The Soldier grabs him by the hair, yanking him upright, and looks into a pair of frightened eyes. “Sargent Barnes,” the man says in a strangled voice but the Soldier pays him no mind. He smashes his metal fist into the man’s face over and over again, then drags him back to the car and places him in the driver’s seat with his face against the wheel._

_In the passenger seat a woman is gasping with fear. Blood trickles down her face but her injuries aren’t severe enough to kill her. The Soldier must see to that. He grasps the woman by the neck and watches with clinical detachment as her air supply is cut off. Once he’s sure that she’s dead he retrieves the suitcase from the trunk, climbs onto his motorcycle and leaves. The mission went as planned. His handlers will be pleased._

James wakes with a gasp and tries to bolt out of bed. He gets tangled in the sheets and tumbles onto the floor with a loud thump, winding up lying on his side next to the bed with the sheets knotted around his ankles, hyperventilating with sheer panic as he realizes what he’s done. He killed someone who recognized him in cold blood. James isn’t sure how he knew the man but the thought makes him sick to his stomach. He heaves himself up onto his knees and deposits the contents of his stomach onto the carpet. 

The door opens with a bang and Steve enters the room. “James, what happened? Are you all right?” He reaches over and switches the beside lamp on before kneeling next to his friend. 

James feels dizzy and he can’t stop the nausea. He throws up twice more. Some of it splashes onto Steve’s pants and he moans, “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve reassures him. “I’ll be right back.” He dashes out of the room and returns a few seconds later with the bathroom trashcan. “Here, hold this. What happened?” 

“I killed them,” James whimpers. Another wave of nausea grips him and he heaves again but there’s nothing left to throw up.

“Who?” Steve asks. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know. The car…it crashed and they didn’t die so I killed them,” James sobs. He dry heaves again so hard that he feels his eyes water. 

“It was just a dream. You don’t know that it was real,” Steve comforts him. 

“It was real,” James whispers. 

Steve gently pats his shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll deal with that. Are you still nauseated?” 

James shakes his head. “No,” he rasps. 

“You should have a shower and change your clothes. I’ll clean up the rug.” Steve rifles through the dresser to pull out a clean t-shirt and boxers and hands them to James. 

He takes them gratefully, then retreats to the bathroom where he catches sight of himself in the mirror, noticing that he looks like a complete wreck. There’s dried vomit on his face and clothing, tear streaks on his cheeks, and his hair is extremely rumpled. He drops his clothes into the laundry basket before entering the shower and turning on the spray. As the hot water cascades over him James leans his head against the glass and tries to still his trembling. 

The dream was real. There was no way it could be a fabrication of his damaged mind as Steve suggested. The man he killed referred to him as Sargent Barnes, only something that a person who knew him during his previous life would address him as. A knock at the bathroom door breaks him out of his thoughts. 

“James, are you okay in there?” 

James opens the shower door and sticks his head out to call, “I’m fine. Be out soon!” 

“Okay,” Steve replies. 

James quickly scrubs himself down and then steps out to dry himself off with one of the plush towels. He slips the t-shirt over his head, then steps into his boxers, and returns to the bedroom. Steve is kneeling there scrubbing at the carpet with a wet cloth. He’s swapped his pajama pants for a clean pair of shorts. “I think I’ve got it all cleaned up.” 

James stands in the doorway with his hands limply at his side, feeling helpless. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be doing that. Let me clean it up.” 

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ve pretty much got it handled,” Steve asserts. 

James sits down on the bed and watches Steve finish cleaning. He twists his hands nervously and chews on his lower lip, still thinking about the nightmare. Steve leaves the room to put away his cleaning supplies, then comes in and takes a seat on the bed next to James. 

“What did you dream about?” he asks. 

“I killed two people. I know it was real,” James says in a shaking voice. He relates what he can remember of the dream to Steve and then finishes with, “The man called me Sargent Barnes just before I murdered him. I didn’t understand why at the time. I didn’t even care. I murdered someone who knew me back when I was Bucky Barnes and I just…I just acted like he didn’t matter.” 

Steve is silent for a moment, looking like he wants to say something but isn’t sure what. Finally he says, “That wasn’t you. Hydra brainwashed you, Bucky. They took you and make you into a weapon. It’s not-” 

“Stop calling me that! I’m not Bucky, not anymore, and you know fucking well that it was me. It doesn’t matter what Hydra did to my head because the blood is still on my hands! Do you know how many people are dead because of me?” James shouts.

He lunges off the bed and grabs his bag from the nearby chair. He rummages through, pulls out his notebook, and opens it to the pages that contain the list of people he thinks he’s killed. “Read this.” Steve reluctantly takes the book from his hands and skims through the list. 

When he’s done he puts it down and looks at James with something that looks like a mixture of fear and sympathy. “Oh my god,” he says. 

“See? I’m dangerous. I should be locked away somewhere so I can’t hurt anyone!” 

“No, that isn’t you. This is the work of Hydra. You, whether you’re James or Bucky or whoever you want to be, would never do this,” Steve insists. 

“How are you so sure I’m not a monster?” James says in a near-whisper. 

“Because I know you. Bucky Barnes was a good person and he’s still in there somewhere. I knew when you pulled me out of the river that they couldn’t fully erase you no matter how hard they tried. There’s still good in you. We’ll find a way to make things right.” 

“That list is just the ones I remember. How many more do you think there are?” James argues. 

“Maybe a lot but that still doesn’t scare me away. You said yourself that I don’t know when to give up and you were right. I’d never give up on you,” Steve says. 

James twists his fingers together nervously and stares down at his lap. “I don’t really want you to but I can’t see a way out. This can only end in disaster.” 

“There’s always a way out. And if it turns out there isn’t I’ll make one,” Steve says fiercely.

“I wish I knew what I’d done to inspire such faith from you,” James mutters. 

Steve smiles. “You’d do the same for me. I know what it’s like to feel that you don’t deserve it but trust me, you do.” 

“Can you promise me something?” 

“Anything,” Steve confirms. 

“Promise me you’ll help me make some sort of amends. I can never make up for taking their lives but there has to be something I can do,” James pleads.

“I promise. Now come on, why don’t you sleep in my room? Yours smells like puke and we’ll probably need to get the janitorial staff in here tomorrow to clean the carpet.” Steve gets up, motioning for James to follow him. 

“I can’t go back to sleep, not after that,” James says. 

Steve frowns. “Let’s go out to the living room and we’ll watch a movie then.” 

“You don’t need to stay up with me. It’s fine, really,” James insists. 

“I want to.” Steve starts down the hall. 

“Okay. Can we watch Moana again?” James asks. 

“Of course we can. Come on.” 

The two of them sit down in the living room with Steve on the couch and James opting for the love seat nearby. Steve brings up Moana on Netflix and they both settle in for the rest of the night. Halfway through the movie James realizes that his companion has fallen asleep and he finds himself watching Steve rather than the movie. He looks so relaxed and peaceful sleeping, long lashes fanned against his cheeks and one arm dangling off the couch. James can’t help but think he looks beautiful. 

_Where did that thought come from? Okay, definitely not beautiful then. Peaceful. Tranquil. Undisturbed. Resting. Not beautiful._

James shoves those thoughts away and tries to focus his attention back on the movie. His brain is really and truly broken. That’s the only explanation to have such a thought. It’s not his fault and it’s in the privacy of his own mind anyways so no one has to know. He lies down on the love seat with his feet dangling over the end and tries not to think Steve-related thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve is gone for his morning run when James wakes up. He’s curled up on the love seat with his knees pulled up and both hands tucked in against his chest. When he gets up to stretch his entire body is sore from staying in such a cramped position all night and he makes a mental note to sleep on the floor next time. James gets dressed, then makes his way to the kitchen, where he pokes around in the cereal cupboard and finds multiple choices. He doesn’t know how to decide so he simply grabs one at random and pours himself a bowl. He’s on his fifth bowl when the elevator doors open and Steve steps out. 

“Morning,” he says. James instinctively hunches over his bowl of cereal. He knows that he’s being irrational because Steve told him it’s okay to get his own food, but he still feels a bit uneasy. If Steve notices he doesn’t comment. 

James looks up from his bowl and asks, “Am I allowed to leave our floor?” 

“Of course you are,” Steve says. “You can go anywhere you want in the tower, just maybe stay away from Tony’s labs. He’s pretty territorial about who gets to go down there. If you need directions to anywhere or get lost JARVIS can help you.”

“Okay,” James replies. Steve excuses himself to take a shower and withdraws into the bathroom. James puts the cereal back in the cupboard, places his bowl in the dishwasher, and then heads to the elevator. “JARVIS, take me to Natasha’s floor and tell Steve where I went if he asks.” 

“Of course, Sargeant,” JARVIS’ smooth voice sounds from the ceiling. 

When he gets off at Natasha’s floor he finds that it’s decorated pretty much the same as Steve’s, just with a different colour scheme of gray with purple accents. James nervously wanders into the empty living room. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he should have asked JARVIS to let her know he was coming in case she doesn’t want visitors but it’s too late. 

“I’m in here,” Natasha calls from the kitchen. 

James finds her sitting at down at the breakfast bar, eating oatmeal with one hand and holding her tablet in the other. “You heard me come in?” 

“The elevator makes more noise than Stark thinks,” Natasha answers. She offers an empty stool to James and he moves it around the other side of the breakfast bar so he can sit across from her. He wants to talk but he doesn’t know where to start. Natasha puts her tablet down and gives him an appraising look. 

“You’re here for something aren’t you?” she says bluntly. 

“Yeah, I guess,” James mumbles. “You told me that you had false memories implanted. You’re the only one who knows what it’s like to have your brain messed with.” 

“And that’s one thing Steve can’t help you with.” 

“It’s…complicated.” 

“Start from the top. If you’re not sure where that is then start from anywhere,” Natasha says. 

“I killed people,” James blurts out. When Natasha waits for him to continue, he says, “I can’t remember what it was like to be Bucky Barnes. I don’t know what kind of hobbies I had, what kind of jobs I did, how I felt about being Steve’s friend, just…nothing. But I keep remembering more and more people that I hurt. I dream about them all the time.” 

“You’re wondering if that happened to me?” Natasha asks. James nods. “It’s a little different because I didn’t have my memories wiped. I remember every person I’ve ever killed and it haunts me all the time. It’s something I’ll always have to live with.”

“Tell how me to fix it. I know I can’t bring back the people I murdered but there has to be some way to make things right. I need to,” James begs. 

Natasha’s face softens and she looks at him with sadness in her eyes. “There’s nothing you can do other than try to move on and make peace with your past. You can’t fix it and if you try you’ll just drive yourself insane. Chances are you won’t be able to remember enough detail to help find anyone. I know Tony’s working on cracking Hydra’s encrypted files but that might not even be a guarantee. We don’t know what’s on them.”

James lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Steve keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault but that doesn’t change anything. I still did it. I should have fought against Hydra. I should have done something to get myself killed or done myself in. It would have spared all of those people. My life isn’t worth so many of theirs.”

“It’s hard to think that your life is worth anything after all you’ve been through but you do have value as a person. You just have to believe it. And Steve is right. It’s not like you agreed to Hydra’s torture and brainwashing sessions. Once someone gets inside your head like that they can make you do whatever they want. They can force you to believe anything and if they don’t like any of your thoughts or actions they can make you a blank slate and start over. One person against all of Hydra never stood a chance,” Natasha points out. 

James frowns. “You and Steve think I need therapy.” 

“It might help to talk to someone who’s not Steve or me. Sometimes it’s easier to tell your darkest secrets to a stranger,” Natasha says. 

“Did you?” 

“No, I tried once and found the process useless to me. I found other ways of dealing but if you want to try it, go ahead. Recovery is different for everyone,” Natasha encourages. 

“I can’t imagine there are a lot of brainwashed former assassins running around out there.” James picks at a loose thread on the shirt he’s wearing. 

“You’d be surprised,” Natasha says. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Sometimes it’s almost too hard. I’m not saying I want to go back to Hydra but it was almost easier not to have to make decisions. I can’t tell Steve that. He wouldn’t understand.” 

Natasha reaches out and very gently places her hand on his. “I get it.” 

James doesn’t pull away, even though his instinct is to snatch his hand back. He mostly feels uncomfortable with physical contact but this isn’t like what he expected. There’s no pain, only a nice feeling of Natasha’s soft skin against his calloused hand. He looks down at their joined hands and says miserably, “Steve never touches me.” 

“Do you want him to?” Natasha asks. 

James feels confusion swirl up inside of him and he’s not entirely sure how to answer.“Sometimes, I guess. Other times I don’t want anyone near me.” 

“That’s normal. Steve’s just trying to give you space. He knows that you’re not very comfortable at the moment and I’m pretty sure he’d chew off his own leg if that would make you feel better.” She gives James a wry smile. 

“Should I touch him first? What if I hurt him?” he asks. 

“You won’t. Trust me, just put a hand on his arm or something and see what happens.” Natasha’s smirking and James wonders if she knows something he doesn’t. 

“I will,” he says, getting up from his seat. “Thanks for listening to me.” 

“Any time,” Natasha says. She returns to looking at her tablet. 

James gets in the elevator and heads back to his floor. When he steps out, Steve is reclining on the couch with his sketchpad propped up on his knees. James thinks of the Steve from the memory flashback in the dressing room and smiles. Even though his friend’s substantially larger these days his body language remains the same. 

“Hi,” he says. He sits down on the other end of the couch. 

Steve puts his sketchbook aside. “Hey.”

The two of them just look at each other awkwardly for a moment before James says, “Um, did you ever find out about that therapist? You said I needed to talk to someone and I’d like to, uh, give it a try if it’s possible.” 

Steve sits up straighter and stretches his legs out. “Yeah, Tony sent me the information last night but I didn’t have a chance to talk to you about it because-” 

“The nightmare,” James cuts in. 

“Because I fell asleep on the couch. Anyways, Tony was able to dig up a former SHIELD psychologist who’s got her own private practice right now. She said she’d be willing to come back one day a week if the pay was right. Tony told her that wouldn’t be a problem. If you want to she can schedule you for a once a week session starting next week,” Steve finishes. 

“Okay,” James agrees.

Steve looks a bit surprised. “Huh. That was easy. I thought you’d be a bit more resistant.” 

“Last night was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had. They’re not usually that detailed, which means they’re getting worse. Why can’t I remember anything good? If I have to remember, I want to remember being Bucky Barnes, not the Soldier.” James curls up again, pulling his knees up close to his body and wrapping his arms around them. 

“You’ll remember some good things eventually. If you want I can help with that,” Steve offers. 

“Maybe you could tell me some stories about when we were kids. How did we meet?” James asks. 

“We met when I was getting beat up by some older boys because they were trying to steal from me.” Steve gives James an amused look. 

James laughs. “Let me guess, I rescued you?” 

“You did. You chased both of them off and then introduced yourself to me,” Steve says, grinning. 

“Why do I get the feeling this set the tone for our entire friendship?” James chuckles. 

Steve’s trying hard not to laugh now but he doesn’t succeed. “Even when you don’t remember you still give me grief about that.” 

“I wish I could remember more. The only memories I’ve got are some vague recollections of how small and feisty you were and a tiny bit from after the serum. Too bad there isn’t a way to get it all back,” James says, suddenly feeling his spirits drop. 

“What’s helped you remember in the past?” Steve asks.

James shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure. Sometimes I’ll see or hear something and it will just trigger a memory to pop up.” 

Steve furrows his brow for a minute, clearly thinking hard about something. Then his eyes light up and he asks, “James, have you listened to any music lately?” 

“Just whatever I’d hear when I was out and about in Bucharest. Sometimes people would have radios playing but I didn’t like much of it, just a song or two. It all kind of sounded the same,” James says confusedly. 

Steve grabs his tablet from its spot on the coffee table and turns it on. He opens a site called YouTube and clicks on something in the side bar, which opens a list of videos. “I made a playlist of music we used to listen to. Maybe it will help.

James isn’t sure that’s going to be the answer to his missing memories but he thinks that it’s worth a try. “We’ll see,” he hedges. The first video Steve clicks on is simply labeled “Stormy Weather” and he strains his ears to make out every word, hoping that something will click. 

_Don’t know why there’s no sun up in the sky_

_Stormy weather since my man and I ain’t together_

_Keeps rainin’ all the time_

James is aware that Steve is watching him eagerly but he’s simply not feeling anything. He keeps silent as the song plays through to the end. “I don’t remember,” he confesses. 

Steve’s face falls but he immediately schools his expression into something neutral. “That’s okay, that one was from when we were kids. Maybe that’s too far back,” he says, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. He changes the video to one called “Chatanooga Choo by Glen Miller with Tex Beneke and the Four Modernaires”.

James taps his toe as he listens to the catchy sound of the horns and the piano together but it doesn’t jog any memories either. “This is nice but I don’t remember it,” he says, disappointment evident in his voice. He badly wants to remember something because he knows it will make Steve happy but nothing is coming to him. 

“No problem. Try this.” Steve changes the video again. A slow melody drifts out of the tablet’s speakers with a group of men singing in harmony. 

_I’m gonna buy a paper doll that I can call my own_

_A doll that other fellows cannot steal_

_And then the flirty, flirty guys with their flirty, flirty eyes_

_Will have to flirt with dollies that are real_ __

James snorts. “What stupid lyrics. Was this written by a child?” 

Steve lets out a bark of laughter. “I forgot that you hated this one.” 

“I don’t remember it but it’s terrible. Turn it off,” James moans while covering his ears. 

“Hmm… I wonder,” Steve mutters and he scrolls down the list to find a video that lists the artists as Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters. “This is the Vict’ry Polka.”

_There’s going to be a hallelujah day_

_When the boys have all come home to stay_

_And a million bands begin to play_

_We’ll be dancing the Vict’ry Polka_

_And when we’ve lit the torch of liberty_

_In each blacked out land across the sea_

_When a man can proudly say I’m free_

_We’ll be dancing the Vict’ry Polka_

James frowns as he listens to the lyrics. The tune seems somewhat familiar but his brain can’t place where he’s heard it before. 

_And we will give a mighty cheer_

_When the ration book is just a souvenir_

_And we’ll heave a mighty sigh_

_When each gal can kiss the boy she kissed good-bye_

_And they’ll come marching down Fifth Avenue_

_The United Nations in review_

_When this lovely dream has all come true_

_We’ll be dancing the Vict’ry Polka_ __

James chews on his lower lip as he keeps listening. He knows this song. Somehow he knows that he’s heard it and liked it but it’s like the memory is stuck and won’t come to the forefront of his brain. 

_Dance, dance, dance the Vic’try Polka_

_Join, join the merry throng_

_Sing, sing, sing the Vict’ry Polka_

_Raise your voices loud and strong_

That’s when it hits him.

_Bucky’s in a bar and he’s been drinking with the Howling Commandos for most of the night. Across the bar he spots two pretty girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. They look like sisters. Hey Barnes, you gonna dance with one of them dames or just stare at ‘em all night?” Dum Dum teases._

_"Just waiting for the right song,” Bucky says._

_"You wait too long and they’ll be gone!” Dum Dum nudges him in the side and nearly spills his beer in the process._

_The Vict’ry Polka starts playing and Bucky grins. “See? That’s my cue,” he announces._

_He gets up and crosses the floor._

Something must have shown on his face because Steve’s asking, “James? What is it?” 

“I know this one. I danced to this, didn’t I?” he says, looking at Steve with wide eyes. 

Steve grins at him. “You did! This song was everywhere during the war and you’d always find some pretty girl to dance to it with you.” 

“Were we in a bar at one time with our friends? The…the… Howling Commandos?” James asks haltingly. 

“Yeah, we were a team. We did a lot of fighting and a bit of drinking together during the war,” Steve confirms. 

“What happened to them?” James asks. 

Steve sighs and he averts his eyes. “Some of them are dead. The others are elderly and being looked after in care homes or by their families.” 

“Have you visited any of them?” 

“No. I exchanged letters with Dum Dum and Gabe for awhile but they’re both too old and sick to write now. It’s hard to see our friends that way, especially when I get to remain young,” Steve says morosely. 

James realizes that this is it. _Just put a hand on his arm or something and see what happens,_ Natasha’s voice echoes in his head. Steve is sitting on the side with his metal arm and James doesn’t want to touch him with it but it would be awkward to reach across with his right. He carefully lifts his prosthetic and reaches out to grasp Steve’s wrist. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

Steve looks down at James’ fingers around his wrist and something unreadable flickers in his eyes. Thinking that maybe he’s uncomfortable, James abruptly lets go. “Sorry Steve. I shouldn’t have…” 

“No, it’s fine. Just caught me off guard a bit,” Steve insists. He gets up from the couch. “I’m gonna make a call and get your appointment booked for next week.” 

He departs to retrieve his phone from the bedroom, leaving a very confused James behind. 


	9. Chapter 9

James is sitting on the couch with his tablet in hand, browsing through some news sites. He’s not really concentrating though because he feels nervous. Today marks his first appointment with the SHIELD psychologist and he’s really not sure what to expect, even though Steve has assured him everything will be fine. 

“You’d better go down for your appointment,” Steve tells him as he enters the living room. 

“Can you take me? I’m not really sure where it is and I don’t want to go alone,” James says quietly. He feels like withdrawing into a ball on the couch and refusing to move but instead he stands up. 

Steve gives him a gentle smile. He must know how anxious Bucky is.“Sure. Tony set up an office for your psychologist down on twelve. I know where it is.” 

They take the elevator down to the twelfth floor and Steve leads him down a long corridor to a door bearing the name Dr. Amy Sullivan on an embossed plaque. “Do you want me to wait for you?” 

James shakes his head. “No, I can find my own way back.” 

“Good luck,” Steve tells him, flashing his best Captain America smile. James can’t help but feel his lips turn up a bit. Something about Steve always seems to be able to make even the darkest moments just a little bit brighter. 

Once Steve is gone, James knocks on the door and waits until it’s opened. Dr. Sullivan is not what he expected. He’d pictured her as a severe-looking older woman but instead she looks to be in her late thirties. She’s a tall, slender woman with warm brown eyes, a button nose, and most unexpectedly, a short bob haircut dyed a brilliant purple. “Good afternoon, you must be James,” she says, holding out her right hand. 

James hesitates a moment because he’s not sure if he wants to use his left hand, thinking she might find it off-putting. Timidly he extends his metal arm and she shakes it. “I’m sorry about that. I know some people don’t like it,” he apologizes. 

Dr. Sullivan looks unperturbed. “It’s quite all right. I’ve read your file and I knew what to expect. Come in and have a seat.” 

James allows himself to be lead into an office decorated in a green and white colour scheme. One side has a desk that holds a computer, a small houseplant, and a framed photo of a dog. Behind it is a utilitarian-looking gray filing cabinet. On the opposite side of the room there are four comfortable-looking armchairs with a coffee table in between them and middle of it is a vase that contains artificial yellow flowers. James and the psychologist take seats across from each other. 

“As you probably know, I’m Doctor Sullivan but you can just call me Amy. Is it all right if I call you James?” she says. 

“Yeah,” he answers. He feels his flesh hand shaking and covers it with his metal one to keep it steady.

Amy picks up a file folder from the coffee table and opens it. “I’ve read your file in depth and for our first session I think we should start with your treatment goals. What are you hoping to achieve with your therapy?” she asks. 

“Um,” James says, not entirely sure of how he wants to answer the question. He twists his fingers together nervously.“You know I’ve killed people, right?” he blurts out. 

Amy doesn’t seem bothered at all. “Yes, I’m well aware of that. I’ve worked for SHIELD before and you certainly aren’t the first client I’ve had who’s killed someone.” 

“I have nightmares,” James says abruptly. “I want them to stop.” 

Amy scribbles a note in the file. “Okay, anything else?”

“I have flashbacks. Sometimes I remember things and it seems so real that it’s terrifying, even when I remember good things. Hydra wiped my mind so many times that I don’t know if what I’m remembering actually happened or if it’s just something my screwed-up brain came up with. Some of it seems like it came from a life I never lived even though Steve tells me that it’s true. It’s like Bucky Barnes died the minute he fell off that train and now there’s only me. How do I become him again?” 

“James, you can never be the same person you used to be. You’ve been through a lot of trauma during your time as the Winter Soldier and that doesn’t just disappear. What you can do now is work on your PTSD symptoms and try to make your current life better,” Amy explains. 

“PTSD?” James says curiously. 

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s something that often happens to people when they’ve experienced traumatic events. It’s very common in combat veterans but people can suffer from it due to other events as well.” 

James looks at her with confusion. “You mean like shell-shock?” 

“That’s an outdated term but yes,” Amy says. 

“So what do I do to get better?” James fiddles with the hem of his shirt nervously. 

“Given what I’ve read and heard so far I think Cognitive Processing Therapy would good for you. You’ll need to see me once a week and you’ll have homework assignments to complete. You’ll bring them to our sessions so that we can discuss them. If you’re willing to put the work in and be persistent we should be able to make some progress,” Amy says. 

“Homework? Like in school?” 

Amy smiles at him. “Yes, James. There will be some paperwork for you but you’ll need to do it in order for us to process your trauma. I’ll give you some handouts on PTSD and your first homework assignment.”

James accepts the sheaf of papers handed to him and briefly shuffles through them. “I have to write an impact statement? What’s that?” he questions. 

“You need to write one page about your current thoughts and feelings. Tell me how you’ve been feeling since you escaped, how you view the world right now, how you view yourself. Most importantly we need to look at how those views affect you in several areas: safety, trusting others, how in control you feel of your life, your self esteem, and intimacy with others. There’s a more in depth explanation in the package I gave you. We’ll discuss it at the next session,” Amy says.

James sighs with relief once she declares that their session is over for the day and sends him on his way. He gets in the elevator and makes his way back up to his floor, hoping that Steve is still around. It turns out that he’s in the kitchen making lunch. 

“How did it go?” he asks. 

“Fine,” James mutters. He heads into his bedroom and stuffs the handouts into his sock drawer. He doesn’t want Steve to see them. 

When he emerges into the kitchen again, Steve has sandwiches made for both of them. James takes a seat at the kitchen table and discovers that his contains ham and cheese. Steve watches him poke at it. “Is that okay? You liked it when you were a kid.”

“It’s fine,” James says flatly. 

Steve frowns as he takes a seat cross from him. “Are you all right? You seem a bit out of sorts right now.”

“Right now? I’ve just established that my entire life is ‘out of sorts’ because of Hydra and there’s no quick fix for it. They scrambled my fucking brains, Steve! I’m lucky I didn’t become a vegetable!” James snaps. For a moment they just look at each other across the table. Then the reality of what he’s said catches up with him and he tumbles off his chair onto the floor, assuming the pose that his handlers taught him to use when he’s been disobedient. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…” 

Steve is around the side of the table in an instant and kneels down close by. “It’s okay,” he says softly. He reaches out a hand but withdraws it when James visibly flinches. “It’s okay, just look at me. You’re safe in the tower and no one’s going to hurt you. Deep breaths, okay?”

James focuses on trying to breathe and eventually comes back to himself, feeling ashamed for making such a scene. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine. You’ve been through a lot lately and you’re probably feeling lost, right?” 

“Lost is an understatement,” James says gruffly. 

“I know and I wish there was something I could do to get your memories back,” Steve says sympathetically. 

“So I can be Bucky Barnes again?” 

“So you can rebuild your life without any holes in it,” Steve corrects him. 

With Steve’s urging, James gets up from the floor and sits down at the table again. He’s not feeling hungry anymore but if he doesn’t eat Steve will start worrying about him. He grabs his sandwich and takes a tiny bite out of the corner.

“Are you not feeling well because it was your first session with the psychologist today?” Steve asks. 

James drops his eyes to the sandwich sitting on his plate and he scowls. “She’s not afraid of me.” 

“Does she have any reason to be?” Steve asks carefully. 

“I’ve killed people. I told her that and she didn’t even flinch,” James grumbles. 

“Well she’s worked for SHIELD before. I’m sure she’s used to it by now. Unless you have any plans to hurt her it’ll be fine.” Steve takes a bite of his own sandwich and chews thoroughly. 

“What if…” James starts and then cuts himself off. 

“Go on,” Steve prompts. 

“What if something happens that brings out the Soldier in me again? Hydra had ways of making me do really horrible stuff without even blinking. I don’t even know how it works. What if someone sets it off by accident?”

“It won’t happen. I talked to Tony this morning and he said he’s really close to cracking Hydra’s encryption so we’ll find out what we’re dealing with soon enough,” Steve says firmly. 

“Am I ever going to meet him? I live in his tower and yet I’m starting to think he’s not real.” James nibbles a little bit more on the corner of his sandwich.

Steve smiles. “He’s a busy man. We’ll probably see him when he says he’s cracked the encryption.”

James goes back to eating his sandwich. He decides he’ll start on his homework assignment after lunch.


	10. Chapter 10

James enters Amy’s office with his notebook in hand. He wrote his homework assignment down in the same book that he keeps most of thoughts and memories in, thinking it fitting to have a complete record of his life since his escape. 

“Okay, let’s go over your homework from last week. Can you read your impact statement for me?” Amy asks. 

“Okay.” James takes a deep breath to calm himself and lets it out with a whoosh. Then he begins. “Hydra took everything from me and replaced it with blank spaces. I woke up in a world that made no sense to me and after decades of having every aspect of my life controlled I had no idea what to do with myself. This made me feel terrified. I tried very hard to outrun my past as an assassin until Steve found me. I don’t feel safe anywhere, even when Steve says he can protect me. I feel like Hydra’s lurking around every corner, just waiting to capture me. 

The only people I trust are Steve and possibly Natasha. It feels like my entire life is out of my control so I tend to leave decisions up to Steve. I don’t like being touched either because for so long Hydra only touched me to hurt me. I’ve only touched someone a few times since I got here and, even though it felt nice, a part of me just wanted to run away as far as I possibly could. I don’t feel good about myself. I don’t feel like I deserve to have anything good in my life because of the people I killed. People tell me that it’s not my fault because Hydra made me do it but I still feel like I’m responsible. I have no idea how to cope with any of this and sometimes it all just seems too complicated to deal with.” 

When he finishes he looks up at Amy and her expression is encouraging. “That’s very good, James. Now that we’ve identified how you feel we’re going to work on something called ‘stuck points’. I’ve got some more hand-outs for you but I’ll give you a brief run-down of what they are,” she says. 

“Okay,”James whispers. He feels emotionally drained from reading his impact statement but he perseveres in listening to Amy. 

“Stuck points are specific thoughts that get in the way of your recovery. Quite often they’re distorted beliefs that you might not even be aware of having and they lead to unhealthy thoughts and behaviour. We’re going to identify them and work on challenging them so that you’re able to change your way of thinking. That’s what the stuck point log is for.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” James says. It seems like an insurmountable task to him and he wonders if maybe agreeing to therapy was a mistake. 

“James, I won’t lie to you. This is going to be hard work and there are times when you’ll want to avoid the pain but your issues need to be faced head on,” Amy says sternly. 

James nods. “I understand. It just doesn’t make it any easier.” 

“The key is to keep persisting. You’ll make progress if you do that,” Amy reassures him. James nods and listens to her continue. “I’m going to get you to think of a stuck point right now. You can write it down on your log and take it home with you. Your homework will be to add to the list and use the worksheet on challenging questions.” 

“Umm…” James says, furrowing his brow as he thinks hard. “I didn’t fight hard enough against Hydra when they captured me after my fall from the train. I wouldn’t have become the Winter Soldier if I’d done that.” 

“Good, put that on your list,” Amy encourages. James scribbles it down. “Now let’s try the challenging questions. What’s the evidence for and against this idea?” 

“Evidence for would be that I knew Hydra was going to do something terrible with me but I didn’t stop them when they started the procedures to turn me into the Soldier. I also let them do what they wanted to me when I overheard someone saying Captain America was dead. I gave up,” James says. He pauses for a moment and frowns but Amy simply waits in silence for him to continue. 

“Evidence against it is that I lost my arm during the fall and I had lost a lot of blood so I was really weak. They had me chained to a table most of the time so I couldn’t move. They injected me with drugs that made me feel dazed and didn’t feed me or give me any water for days at a time. Even if I had managed to get off the table, I was outnumbered,” he says. 

“Are you confusing a habit with a fact? Have you said this to yourself so many times that you just believe it or is it something that can be proven?” Amy prompts, reading from her own copy of the handout. 

“It’s a habit, I think,” James mutters. Then he straightens up in his chair and says louder, “Yeah, it’s a habit. Steve’s told me that I was tortured and that it wasn’t my fault but I always tell myself I should have been able to do something.” 

“Are your interpretations of the situation too far removed from reality to be accurate? Are you distorting the events in some way?” 

James shrugs. “I…yeah, probably. I think I don’t want to admit that I was helpless in that situation.” 

“Are you thinking in all-or-nothing terms?” Amy says. 

“Yeah. I guess I see it as a choice between letting Hydra turn me into a monster or fighting them and coming out a hero,” James answers. 

“Are you using words that are extreme or exaggerated like always, forever, or never?” 

“I-I don’t know. I guess sometimes I think I should never have lived after I fell off the train,” James mutters. 

“Are you taking selected examples out of context? Are you making a judgement without considering the whole picture?” 

“Definitely. The whole picture is that at the time Hydra was a massive organization that probably had this Winter Soldier thing in the works long before I came along. I was just unlucky enough to be their favourite test subject. They probably would have done it to someone else if it wasn’t me,” James says. 

“That’s good insight,” Amy praises him. “Last question! Are your judgments based on feelings or facts?” 

James is silent for a moment. Then he says, “Feelings. I guess I couldn’t have known that Hydra was going to force me to kill people and keep wiping my memory.” 

“Very good James. You’ve made some great insights today. I want you to go home and think about the rest of them, then apply the challenging questions. We’ll talk about it at our next session, ” Amy says. 

Not long after she decides that the session is over for the day and sends James off with his newest stack of paperwork. He takes the elevator back to his floor, walks past Steve napping on the couch, and heads into his bedroom where he adds to the growing pile in his sock drawer. When he emerges Steve is sitting up, looking bleary eyed.

“When’d you get back?” he asks. 

“Just now,” James says, taking a seat on the couch. Steve yawns and stretches. This time he doesn’t ask about the session but James feels the sudden urge to talk about it. “Doctor Sullivan, sort of, uh, made me think about something,” he mutters, keeping his eyes on the floor. 

“Anything I should be worried about?” Steve asks.

“No, it’s just…I’m supposed to change my way of thinking about stuff, like believing that I’m at fault for what Hydra did to me. I keep thinking there’s something I could have done so they wouldn’t have turned me into the Soldier.” 

Steve shifts a little nearer on the couch and James thinks about closing the gap between them to just reach out and touch him. The last time he tried Steve didn’t seem that comfortable with it though. He keeps his hands folded in his lap and finally meets Steve’s eyes.

“James, there isn’t anything you could have done. Nobody knew you were alive, let alone what Hydra was doing to you,” he says. 

James sighs. “But the world thinks I’m a monster, right?” 

“The world thinks the Soldier is a monster, not James Barnes,” Steve corrects. 

“They won’t see a difference between the two. One day I’ll have to answer for what I did when I was the Soldier,” James says dejectedly.

“It won’t happen. You have people on your side who are going to make sure that everyone knows what Hydra was up to.” 

Somehow James doubts that anyone will believe he didn’t act of his own free will but he knows that Steve will refuse to believe that. He decides to change the subject. “How’s Tony coming along with cracking the encrypted files?” 

“He said he’s managed to get into a few files but so far he hasn’t found anything relating to you. Most of the data is being provided to SHIELD as intel,” Steve answers. 

“I don’t know if I want him to break into the ones about me. There’s still a lot of blank spaces in my brain but filling them in might not be a good thing. It’ll be the stuff of nightmares,” James says in a voice barely above a whisper. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”Steve gets up and walks through to the kitchen. “I think I’m going to make chicken soup for lunch. Do you want some?” he calls. 

“Yeah, okay,” James says. He rises from his position on the couch but isn’t sure of what to do with himself. He ends up standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at New York and feeling more lost and alone than ever.

He hates to admit it but things were simpler when the only worries he had were stealing enough to feed himself and avoiding getting re-captured by Hydra. Life in the tower with Steve feels too complicated and confusing. James wonders if he’ll ever get to a point where he feels normal.

Maybe it won’t come to that. Maybe he’ll end up in a prison somewhere, answering for his crimes. Despite the session with Amy he’s still not sure that the Soldier isn’t somewhere deep down inside of him, waiting to be released. It’s a belief he’ll never feel comfortable enough to let go of.


	11. Chapter 11

James wakes from a nightmare but this time he doesn’t fall out of bed. Instead he puts his metal arm through the lamp on the bedside table and it falls to the floor with a crash. He sits upright with his feet dangling off the edge of the bed and tries hard not to remember what the dream was about because it’s probably something that would be better off forgotten. Then his broken brain supplies him with the imagery anyway. 

The Soldier had been in the backyard of an elaborate mansion, sitting in a tree to watch a man who was to be eliminated. He’d carefully gauged his target’s every move as the man stepped through the back doors and into the enclosure with the swimming pool. The Soldier had been ordered to make it look like an accident. It was almost too easy. He’d climbed out of the tree and snuck around some hedges to get closer, carefully making sure that his target didn’t see him until it was too late. He’d come out of the shadows just as the man was draping his towel over a chair and deftly snapped his neck. The Soldier had left the body floating face down in the pool and disappeared.

James is thankful that this time he woke up before he could make much noise, save for the lamp. Shit. He’ll have to tell Steve that he needs another lamp and won’t that be a pleasant conversation? He looks at the digital clock that somehow managed to remain unscathed and sees that it’s four a.m. Sure that going back to sleep won’t be an option this time, he gets up and gets dressed, throwing on a pair of jeans and a random clean t-shirt before heading to the elevator. On the way out he grabs his notebook and a pen.“JARVIS, can you take me up to the roof?” 

“Of course Sargent Barnes.” 

James gets off the elevator and walks out onto the helicopter landing pad. There’s only a thin guardrail between him and the ninety-three story drop but it doesn’t frighten him any. He goes straight to the edge and sits down with his feet dangling, looking out over New York at the sunrise as the sky turns brilliant shades of pink and orange. There’s just enough light coming from the rooftop lighting that he can see the pages in his book and he carefully writes down the nightmare where it will join the others. It’s almost full now and he wonders if he could ask Steve to get him another one. 

Gradually the sky becomes blue but he doesn’t move from his perch, not even when he hears the sound of the elevator doors opening and someone crosses the landing pad. Steve sits down beside him and crosses his legs. “Hey,” he says. 

“Hey,” James replies. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steve asks. 

“No.” James stares out into the distance for a moment before he says, “I broke another lamp.”

Steve looks at him with sympathy in his eyes. “It’s all right, I can get another one. Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to discuss? I dreamed about killing someone **again **.**** ” James flexes his metal arm and watches as the plates shift and rotate, then clenches his hand in a fist. 

“Have you talked to Dr. Sullivan about that?” Steve asks. 

“Briefly,” James says curtly. 

Steve opens his mouth to say something else but it’s cut off by the sound of his phone going off. He looks at the screen and announces, “Sorry, I’ve gotta take this. It’s Tony.” 

“No problem.” James expects that Steve will walk away to get some privacy but he doesn’t move from where he’s seated. He picks up. 

“Hey Tony, what’s up? Great….yeah. Have you even been to sleep yet? Yeah…okay. No, we’ll come down. Okay…see you soon.” He turns off his phone and stuffs it back in the pocket of his jeans. “Tony’s managed to crack the encryption on the last of the Hydra files. He said he found some stuff we might want to see,” Steve tells him.

“I don’t suppose it’s good news,” James says broodily. He pointedly doesn’t look at Steve, knowing that his friend is probably eyeing him with both concern and pity right now. He can’t bare to have that directed at him if he needs to use the Soldier’s mental fortitude to steel himself for what’s coming next. 

“You don’t have to look at it if you don’t want to,” Steve says. 

James gets to his feet and brushes the dirt from his jeans. “We’re going.” 

The elevator ride down to Tony’s floor is fraught with tension. James feels much like he did when he was the Soldier, waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim and disappear before anyone realized they were dead. He clenches his fists by his side. Beside him Steve is looking worried but he doesn’t speak. Maybe he knows that there’s nothing he could say to make James relax. As they exit the elevator he can see that the penthouse looks even fancier than either Steve or Natasha’s floor, done up in a garish motif of white and gold with multitudes of expensive equipment everywhere.

“Hey Spangles, what’s up?” Tony says, seemingly emerging out of nowhere. He looks like he hasn’t slept. There are dark shadows under his eyes, his hair is sticking up in all directions, and his clothes are rumpled. 

Steve, however, doesn’t seem fazed by it. “Tony, this is James,” he says. 

“Great to finally meet you,” Tony enthuses, walking forward with his hand outstretched. He freezes when he sees the look of shock on James’ face. 

“James, are you all right?” Steve asks. 

James doesn’t hear him. He knows that face. He’s seen it before in the face of a man he murdered on a roadside long ago, a man who called him Sargent Barnes. He backs up a step, feeling a sudden rush of cold fear in his body. “No,” he whispers.

Steve is instantly close enough to touch but he stays back enough not to crowd him. “What is it?” 

“I killed them,” James whispers. Suddenly he can’t breathe. His skin prickles uncomfortably and he feels a flush rising in his face as numbness spreads to his flesh hand. He crumples to the floor on his knees, only barely able to hear Steve’s voice over the rushing sound in his ears. 

“James!” Steve is shouting. It’s the last thing he hears before the entire world loses focus. 

When he comes back to himself again he’s lying on the floor with his head propped in Steve’s lap and Tony fanning him with a sheaf of papers embossed with the SHIELD logo. “What happened?” James says groggily, trying to sit up. He’s not entirely sure he likes having his head in Steve’s lap. It seems almost too intimate. 

Steve’s still clutching at his shoulder to steady him. “You kind of fainted.” 

“It was a panic attack. I used to get them all the time,” Tony explains. He holds out a glass of water. “Here, drink this.” 

James cautiously reaches out and takes the glass, then drinks most of it in one gulp before handing it back. “Thanks,” he says roughly. He doesn’t know what else to say to the man whose parents he murdered but he tries an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

Steve frowns. “James, what are you talking about?”

He doesn’t want to answer. He doesn’t want Steve to look at him with disappointment in his eyes. He’s been the only constant kindness since James left Romania and he doesn’t think he can shoulder the weight of his admission if it destroys everything. He doesn’t look at Steve when he says bluntly, “I murdered his family.” 

“ **Hydra** killed my parents,” Tony corrects. 

“But they sent me to do it. Your dad knew me. He called me Sargent Barnes just before I killed him and I didn’t even recognize him. I didn’t even think for a second that I was killing someone who knew me, I just murdered him in cold blood. Jesus…your mother…She was so afraid…” James sputters. He closes his eyes and fights back a wave of nausea that threatens as he remembers his dream. 

“You think I didn’t know it was you?” Tony says harshly. “I never thought it was just a simple car accident, even when certain people in my life told me to let it go. I did some digging as soon as I had the resources so I knew it was a hit.”

James sucks in a ragged breath. “The blood’s on my hands though. It was my fault that I didn’t stop it. I didn’t even remember knowing him.” 

“I’m not blaming you,” Tony insists. “I saw what was in those files and it was the reason why I couldn’t sleep. You didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell against them. Blaming you is like blaming a gun for killing someone.” James isn’t sure he’ll ever believe that and he shakes his head. 

“We knew Howard during the war. He made me my shield,” Steve adds. 

“I was right about there being more to it as well. My old man was secretly attempting to re-create the serum that was used on Capsicle here and there’s enough evidence in the Hydra files that I think he succeeded. You stole it from the trunk of his car,” Tony says. 

“They tried to make more like me?” James says in a horrified tone of voice. 

“That was the plan. I haven’t read through enough to see if they actually managed it but what I’m concerned about right now is you. I’ll let you know right now that what’s in those files isn’t pretty. If you want them they’re yours though.” Tony drops the Shield papers on a nearby table. 

“Hang on,” Steve interjects. “James, you just had a panic attack. Maybe we should save this for another day. Tony can send us a copy of the files.” He gets to his feet and offers a hand to James. After a moment’s hesitation he takes it and allows Steve to pull him to his feet. 

“Normally I’d agree but this can’t wait. There’s something both of you need to know,” Tony says gravely. He gestures for them to take a seat on the couch and then busies himself with opening up a holographic display. 

Steve and James sit down on the plush white sofa. If he wasn’t feeling so rattled, James would absolutely be fascinated by all of Tony’s tech. It’s like something straight out of one of the novels he likes to read. Tony opens a series of screens and enlarges them with a flick of his hand in order to display the data in a big enough format for everyone in the room. 

“JARVIS alerted me to this early this morning. It appears that Hydra really did a number on your brain Robocop. They implanted a series of codes to ‘activate’ the Winter Soldier in older to keep you compliant enough to do their bidding,” Tony explains. 

James looks down at his feet, feeling the spark of a memory come to the forefront of his brain. He tries to push it away but he can’t stop the flood from bursting free of the dam in his mind. 

_He’s sitting in the chair, screaming bloody murder while a Hydra operative circles him, speaking in Russian._

_“Longing…rusted…seventeen…daybreak…furnace…nine…benign…homecoming…one…freight car.”_

_The man comes to a stop in front of the Soldier and looks him with an almost clinical detachment before closing the red book in his hand. The Soldier has no choice. This man can make him do whatever he wants, no matter how hard he tries to fight it._

_“Good morning Soldier.”_

_“Ready to comply,” the Soldier says automatically in Russian._

_“I have a mission for you. Sanction and extract. No witnesses.”_

James covers his ears with his hands and moans, “No, I’m not! I’m not ready to comply! Stop it!” 

“James, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re in the tower with me and we’re on Tony’s floor,” Steve says quickly. 

James feels his breathing quicken and he claws frantically at his head with both hands, as if trying to rid himself of the memory. Those ten words had made him comply over and over and over again, no matter how hard he tried to fight them, no matter how many times he refused to do what they wanted. It was conditioning strong enough so they could break him, bend him to their will, and mold him into the perfect Hydra killing machine. 

“Stop!” Steve cries. “James, stop it!” He grabs both of James’ hands and holds them steady in his own. 

“I don’t want to comply,” James whimpers.

“You don’t have to. No one will ever make you do that again as long as you’re here,” Tony says. He’s come a few steps closer to the couch, hovering nearby like he wants to help but isn’t sure what to do. 

“Just breathe, in and out, in and out,” Steve instructs.

James struggles but eventually manages to draw a breath. “Don’t…don’t use them...the words.”

Tony steps a little closer to the couch and pats James’ shoulder. “We’re not going to because we’re going to find a way to get rid of them.” 

“What if we can’t?” Steve asks, voicing the question that James is too afraid to ask. 

“There has to be a way, even if I have to call in a few favours. There’s never been a puzzle I couldn’t solve,” Tony insists. 

“You should lock me up. I’m too dangerous,” James whimpers. 

“No,” Steve says firmly. 

Tony looks like he’s in agreement with Steve. “Look, for the time being we’ll just have Frosty here stay in the tower and limit his contact with people we might not trust. JARVIS can keep an eye on him at all times and let us know if something does go completely pear-shaped.”

James is shaking but he realizes that he has to convince them otherwise. “Please, I don’t want to hurt anyone. You have to lock me up somewhere or someone’s going to get killed.”

“Not gonna happen cyborg. Why don’t you go back to your floor and get some rest? If either of you want to view the files they’re on a secure server that I can give you access to. Just ask JARVIS and he’ll tell you what to do,” Tony says. 

Steve nods in agreement. “You should rest.”. 

James lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He suddenly feels too exhausted to argue anymore so he acquiesces to Steve. “Okay,” he says softly.

Only when they rise from the couch does James realize that Steve never let go of his hands.


	12. Chapter 12

James enters Amy’s office and sighs. He feels too exhausted for therapy today but Steve refused to let him cancel the appointment. 

“How are you feeling today James?” Amy asks as she takes in his disheveled appearance and the dark circles under his eyes. 

“Horrible. You have no idea what it’s like to not be able to trust your own brain,” James snarls. He drops himself into his usual chair and rests his head in his hands. 

“I can’t say I have experience with that but I did receive the important notes from the Hydra files. Mr. Stark was kind enough to send them to me,” Amy says. 

James suddenly feels alarmed. “How many people have seen them?” 

“Just Mr. Stark and me. I’ll never share your confidential information with anyone,” Amy reassures him. “I take it you haven’t looked at them yet?” 

“Steve and I have been arguing about that. I want to look at them but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. I think he’s worried that it’ll make me worse.” 

“You can’t allow yourself to become dependent on Steve for important matters if you want to have any sort of autonomy. This is a decision you need to make for yourself. I’d suggest that you think about it for a bit and figure out what you want to do.” Amy taps the pen she’s holding smartly against a folder on her lap. 

James nods. “I just have so many holes in my mind. Sometimes I think I should take the chance to get any piece back that I can, even if it does turn out to be horrific,” he says. 

Amy nods. “Only you can decide. Now, have you identified the rest of your stuck points?” 

James opens his favourite notebook. “Yeah. I’ve got the first one about how I thought I should have fought harder. Then I added a few more. I feel like the world isn’t safe. I don’t trust very many people because anyone could be Hydra. Then there’s the loss of control. I have a really hard time making decisions and sometimes I just let Steve decide everything for me. And I have trouble touching people or being touched by them. I think that I might hurt someone or that they’ll hurt me. The last one is that I feel like I don’t deserve anything good. I’ve killed so many people that I feel like I deserve to have bad things happen to me instead to make up for it.” 

“Those are very good. Did you go through the challenging questions sheet for all of them?” Amy asks. 

“Yeah. I think the only one that might be a real fear is not being able to trust people I don’t already know. Steve’s been keeping tabs on what’s left of Hydra but they’re still out there. They still want me back,” James says. 

“There’s being cautious and then there’s being paranoid. You need to make sure that you know the difference between the two,” Amy points out. 

James runs a hand through his hair and mumbles, “Yeah, I get it.” 

Amy guides him through the challenging questions worksheet for each of his stuck points. They discuss all of them and then she declares that they should wrap up the session. James feels emotionally drained and all he wants is to go back to his floor and hide from everyone in the tower. He’s just standing up to leave when Amy says, “I should let you know that I’ve asked Mr. Stark to help fund a private CT scan scan for you and have it reviewed by a trusted neurologist. I think it might help to know your physical limitations.” 

“Physical limitations?” James repeats, staring at her with incredulity.

“I mean no disrespect James. It’s just that after reviewing the Hydra files I think we need to find an angle to work from. If there’s a chance that you’ll get your memories back we can work on coping mechanisms for the inevitable flashbacks. If it turns out that you’re unable to regain much we’ll have to focus on the best way for you to lead a full and productive life without your memories,” Amy says calmly. 

James nods. “Tony can call Steve when he finds someone,” he says and heads out down the hall. He takes the elevator, all the while lost in thought about just how messed up his life has become. He flops on the couch as soon as he reaches his floor but feels too exposed. All he wants is to curl up away from the rest of the world and its prying eyes, just to forget who he is and where he is for awhile because his brain is screaming at him that it’s all too much to handle.

James tries his bed but experiences similar results to the couch. He decides that what he needs is a tent. A check of every cupboard and closet reveals that Steve has a conspicuous lack of camping supplies but James is nothing if not resourceful. He pushes the couch and coffee table in the living room back from the tv area and uses all of Steve’s dining room chairs to make the foundation of his fortress. Several blankets from his bed and the once green (now painted white) guest room make up the canopy and, as a finishing touch, he adds the couch cushions to make a padded floor.

James crawls inside and curls up in the fetal position, finally feeling safe. He wonders if he could nap but he hasn’t been able to since leaving Romania. Maybe all of the sleep debt he accrued by being frozen instead of sleeping in a proper bed has been paid back. Instead he just lies there and runs through the therapy session in his mind. He doesn’t want to make a decision about the Hydra files. He knows it would simply be easier to let Steve tell him that it’s too damaging for him to view them but he’s supposed to be working on his stuck points and letting Steve decide everything is not good for him. James gives up and turns on his back, staring up at the roof of his blanket fort. 

Much, much later he hears a noise outside and Steve says, “What the fuck?”

James puts a hand over his mouth to smother a snicker. He’d forgotten that Steve was going out for coffee with Natasha. He watches between a gap in the blankets as Steve’s feet come closer before he crouches down and peers inside. “James, are you in there?” 

“Yeah,” James answers.

He hears Steve hesitate for a moment. Then he says, “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, get in here,” James sighs. 

Steve lifts one of the blankets and crawls into the fort to lay down beside James on his side. “We used to do this when were kids.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” James says bitterly. 

Steve turns on his side and fixes him with an appraising look. “Did something happen in therapy today?”

“I have to go to a neurologist to find out just how fucked up I am in the head,” James snaps. 

“Do you not want to go?” Steve asks. 

“Of course I want to go. I want to find out exactly what those bastards did to me and then burn them all to the ground! I want to watch them all suffer and die!” 

“This isn’t really about the neurologist, is it? It’s about the Hydra files,” Steve guesses. 

James closes his eyes and refuses to look at Steve. “I have so little of myself left. I don’t know who I am or what I really want anymore but the doc says I have to make my own decisions about my life. I know you’re grateful to have me back but sometimes I just wish I’d died.” 

“I am grateful that you’re alive but I never wanted it to be like this. I wanted you whole and happy but I failed you. I should have abandoned the mission and gone after you because I could have saved you from all this,” Steve says sadly. 

James’ eyes snap open and he finds Steve looking at him with that horrible pained expression again. “It isn’t your fault. I read about what you did when I visited the museum exhibit. If you’d gone after me Schmidt would have been able to finish what he started. I’m not worth the world Steve,” he insists.

“You are to me,” Steve says. 

James huffs out a breath and turns on his side so that they’re face-to-face. He shakes his head. “What did I do to make you so willing to help me? It must have been something really good.” 

Steve gives him a fond smile. “When I was small there were only two people who really saw me: you and my ma. Everyone else treated me like I was either made of glass or that I just wasn’t worth their time. When my ma died you were all I had left. You took me in and took care of me when I sick. I tried to contribute as much as I could but there were a lot of times I’d just be too sick to work and I’d always get fired for not showing up. You worked ridiculously long hours at hard physical jobs to keep both of us from starving and then came home and took care of me. I guess I feel like it’s my turn to do the same for you.”

“I can get by on my own,” James tells him. 

“The thing is you don’t have to,” Steve says. 

“With you to the end of the line…” 

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise. “You remember that?”

“I-I think so. You were small and we were outside somewhere, right?” James asks. 

“It was right after my ma died. You were asking me to come and stay with you but I was being stubborn. I said I’d be okay by myself but you wouldn’t hear of it. No matter what happened we always had each other,” Steve says. 

“Until I died,” James says darkly. 

Steve doesn’t answer to that but he’s looking at James with something that looks like a cross between fondness and sadness. What he does say is, “Dr. Sullivan’s right about viewing the files. It should be your choice. I was against it because I wanted to protect you from dealing with any more pain because you’ve already been through so much.” 

“I need to know,” James maintains. 

“Okay,” Steve sighs. “Let me get my tablet. We’ll do this together.”

James gives him a ghost of a smile. “Together or not at all.”

Steve crawls out of the fort and James listens to him rattling around in the kitchen for a bit. When he comes back he’s got his tablet, two bottles of water, and a few granola bars. When James raises an eyebrow Steve says, “This might take awhile because there’s a lot of stuff to go through. This way we don’t have to leave.” He turns on his tablet and instructs JARVIS to let them into the Hydra files.


	13. Chapter 13

After JARVIS gives him access to the Hydra files Steve opens the very first one and hands the tablet to James. “I haven’t actually looked at anything but I know that some of it’s text and there are some videos too,” he says. 

James takes the tablet and the first thing he sees onscreen is a picture of himself in WWII military dress. “This is before. Where did they get this?” 

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. Keep swiping right.”James does as instructed and the screen cuts to a document that’s written in Russian. “Can you read that?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, do you want me to translate for you?” Steve nods. “Dictation by Doctor Arnim Zola. Subject: Barnes, James Buchanan. Height: 1.83 meters. Weight: 161.96 pounds. Subject was retrieved from the Danube River by Soviet forces and delivered to Hydra operatives. Body was mostly intact save for the left arm, which is missing above the elbow. Files indicate that subject was a prisoner with the 107th regiment at the Azzano facility where he underwent procedure A38.24, which likely contributed to his survival. Subject is considered an ideal candidate for the Winter Soldier program once blueprints for the arm replacement are completed.” 

“They knew that what they did to you in Azzano worked,” Steve says quietly. 

“Of course they fucking did. Why else would they have chosen me to be their first Winter Soldier?” James snarls. He swipes right again and brings up a video. Without hesitation he pushes play and an old 8mm reel flares to life, the face of Arnim Zola filling the screen. 

“Session one of the Winter Soldier program. The work on the prosthesis has been completed and the subject is now prepped for the attachment surgery. He will be kept awake to ensure that the procedure is a success.” 

“More like to torture me,” James snaps.

Zola moves away from the camera, revealing James strapped to the table with a gag in his mouth. He motions to someone who’s not in the shot and says, “We can proceed.” James cringes as he watches three men in blue lab coats enter the area. One of them is holding a surgical saw while the others have a cart containing the new arm and a clipboard. Zola stands back and watches them approach. 

James takes one look at the surgical saw and begins straining at the straps holding him to the table, eyes wide with fear. He screams around the gag. He doesn’t stop as the whirring of the surgical saw sounds and one of the blue lab coats comes towards him with it. When it cuts into the stump of his left arm he begins shaking his head back and forth, howling like a wounded animal and tensing against the straps. 

“Jesus,” James whispers in horror.

“Turn it off,” Steve urges. 

James doesn’t respond. He’s too fixed on watching himself as the blue lab coats bring forth the metal arm and begin the process of attaching it to his body. Onscreen James has his eyes shut tight, tears leaking down his face but no longer struggling. He whimpers pathetically. The video abruptly cuts off, showing what looks like damage to the film. James doesn’t move. 

_“You are to be the new fist of Hydra,”_ Zola’s voice echoes in his head. 

“James?” Steve is saying. It sounds like he’s speaking from the end of a long tunnel. “James, it’s okay.”

James suddenly feels nothing but white hot anger. He lashes out with his metal arm and sweeps the chairs aside like bowling pins, sending them into the wall below the tv with a crash. The fort collapses and the remaining blankets fall down on top of him and Steve. He struggles and tosses them aside violently as Steve works to free himself too. 

“James, stop!” Steve pleads once he’s able to scramble out and stand up. 

He can’t make sense of anything other than the fact that he’s filled with rage at Hydra for what’s been done to him. He throws the tablet across the room like a frisbee where it ends up embedded in the living room wall near the couch and then grabs the nearest thing he can destroy, which turns out to be the coffee table. James tosses it to the floor and feels satisfied when the glass makes a loud crunching sound. 

“Stop it!” Steve shouts. He grabs James’ arms and attempts to pin them behind his back. He’s only dimly aware that he’s screaming unintelligibly as he yanks them free and upends the couch. “James, you’re in the tower, you’re safe, and no one is going to hurt you. I promise. Just stop and listen to me. Focus on me, okay?” 

James stills amid the carnage he’s created. He feels rather than sees Steve approaching him cautiously again but he pays his friend no attention. Pain, shame, and anger bubble up inside of him and before he knows it he’s on his knees on the floor, gasping for air. A sob jerks out of him, followed by more and more even though he tries to hold back. James covers his face. He doesn’t want Steve to see him cry but he can’t bring himself to move. The feeling of grief settles heavy in his chest like a lead weight and unleashes itself in a torrent of tears, wracking his body with spasms.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” Steve says gently. He rests a hand on James’ shoulder and it’s a comforting weight. When he doesn’t pull away Steve moves in closer and wraps an arm around his shoulders. James hasn’t been much for physical contact in a very long time but he wants it now because he needs to know that he’s not alone with his agony. When he doesn’t get shoved away, Steve puts both arms around James and pulls him in for a hug. They end up with James half in Steve’s lap, weeping hysterically against his shoulder. 

He’s not sure how long they sit like that. It could be minutes, even hours because James isn’t aware of anything other than Steve surrounding him and murmuring gentle words. He catches snatches of things like, “You’re safe here,” and “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again”. He wishes that Steve could make good on that promise, to tear the remains of Hydra limb from limb and snuff them out.

“Sorry,” he moans. His voice is sandpaper rough after crying for so long. 

“You don’t have to be,” Steve soothes. 

“Your stuff…”

“It doesn’t matter. We can replace it,” Steve says. 

James sniffles but he doesn’t let go. “When does it end? When does what they did to me stop fucking up my life?” When he feels Steve tense and suck in a breath he knows he’s not going to like the answer. 

“I don’t know,” Steve murmurs, “but what I do know is that nothing worth doing is ever easy. You told me that once. We’ll get through this no matter what it takes. It’s going to be a long hard road to anything resembling normal but I know we can do it if we’re together.” 

“We?” James asks.

“Yeah, we. I’d never leave you to deal with this alone,” Steve reassures him. 

“It wasn’t this bad in Romania. I mean I still had nightmares and stuff but I never felt like this.” James’ voice is muffled against the fabric of Steve’s shirt. 

“That was probably because you didn’t think about anything other than survival. It’s easy to shut out other things when you’re so focused on just getting through each day.” 

James lifts his head and looks Steve in the eye as he says, “I don’t want to just survive anymore. I want what everyone else has, a normal life.” 

Steve gives him a wry smile. “I don’t think anyone in this tower has a normal life.”

“As normal as possible,” James amends. 

“You’ll get there eventually. When I came out of the ice I didn’t fit in as easily as everyone hoped. I felt like I was completely lost and I had no one to turn to. Everyone I knew got to either stay dead or live out their lives and here I was, still the same as the day I went down with the plane. I had to learn how to get along in a world that’s completely different from anything we ever knew,” Steve says. 

“How did you manage?” 

“I learned to ask for help from my friends. It’s always easier when you don’t have to figure things out alone,” Steve tells him. 

“I don’t know how,” James mumbles.

“All you have to do is ask. I promise I’ll be there to listen to you whenever you need it.” Steve pats his shoulder gently. 

They’re close enough that they could kiss, James thinks. Steve’s looking at him with those sky blue eyes and there’s nothing but openness and honesty there. It would be easy to simply close the gap between them if he could only summon the bravery required. James lifts his metal hand and caresses the back of Steve’s neck, the sensors registering movement as Steve shivers from the cold contact. Two spots of colour are blooming in his cheeks and he looks away. He lets go of James abruptly and climbs to his feet. 

“You should rest. Why don’t you go to your room for a bit and I’ll clean up here?” Steve suggests.

James feels disappointed but he stuffs his feelings down inside into the place he puts everything he doesn’t want to deal with. It isn’t right to take advantage of Steve’s friendship and kindness for something that most likely won’t be reciprocated and will probably ruin everything. James gets to his feet. He doesn’t look at his friend as he says, “I should help. I made this mess.” 

“It wasn’t your fault. Come on.” Steve takes James by the arm, leads him down the hall, and into his bedroom. “Just lie down for a bit. You’ve been through a lot this afternoon and it’ll help you feel better.” 

James crawls into bed and pulls the blankets up to his chin. “Stay,” he whispers. Steve settles in at the end of the bed until he falls asleep. 

When he wakes it’s nearly two hours later and Steve is gone. James pads down the hall and into the living room to find that the wreckage from earlier has been cleared away with the only remaining signs being the gouges in the wall and the coffee table with no glass. He drops down on the couch and waits for Steve to come out of the kitchen. When he does he sits down carefully on the other end, looking for all the world like he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words.

  
James beats him to it. “I want to see the rest of my file,” he demands. 

Steve looks alarmed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not blaming you for what happened but I just don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

“I won’t watch the videos. I just want to read the notes,” James is quick to reassure him.

Steve sighs and leans back into the couch cushions. “Okay, but not today,” he capitulates. 

James leans back against the plush fabric of the couch and folds his legs under himself. “No, definitely not today. I really am sorry that I wrecked everything. I don’t know what came over me. I just felt so pissed off that I had to go through all of that, like it wasn’t fair.” 

“It’s all right. I’m not mad or anything and you’re right. You didn’t deserve any of the things that happened to you,” Steve says. 

James looks away before he says sadly, “You asked me once if I wanted to be Bucky Barnes and you know what? I do. If there was a way to become him again I’d do it for you.”

“James, I don’t want you to be Bucky for me if you can’t be. I just want you to be you and be happy,” Steve insists. 

James bites his lower lip and blinks back the tears that threaten to start again. “I said I wasn’t afraid of the CT scan but I am. What if there’s something really wrong with my brain? What if Hydra fucked me up so bad that I’m going to start losing my mind or something?” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let’s find out what we’re dealing with here and if there’s anything that can help you,” Steve says. 

“What do we do until then?” 

“We could cook dinner,” Steve offers. 

James eyes him skeptically. “Can you even cook without setting the stove on the fire?” 

“You remember that, do you?” Steve sighs. 

“I think you had an asthma attack from the smoke. I remember pushing you out into the hall because you were coughing.” James can’t help but smile. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve improved a lot since I came out of the ice. Some of my friends took pity on me and taught me a few things about modern cooking,” Steve says indignantly.

“Prove it,” James taunts. 

“Oh I will.” 

They end up ordering Chinese after Steve burns the spaghetti he’s cooking so badly that it’s permanently blackened the pot.


	14. Chapter 14

It’s the morning of James’ CT scan and he can’t sleep. He gets up at four a.m. and asks JARVIS to turn on a movie for him but pays no attention to the selection. Steve finds him curled up on the couch when he rises. “Couldn’t sleep?” 

James nods. “I’m worried.” 

Steve plops down next to him on the couch and rests a hand on his arm. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re just getting a scan done. I’ll make sure I’m with you the whole time.” 

“It’s not the scan, it’s the results. What if something is really wrong and that’s why I can’t remember?” James asks. 

Steve squeezes his arm gently. “There’s no use in getting yourself worked up about it. We’ll go to the appointment, find out what’s going on, and then we’ll go from there. Come on, you should have some breakfast.” 

James reluctantly follows Steve into the kitchen and allows a plate of bacon and eggs to be foisted on him. He doesn’t eat much of it. Afterwards he showers and gets dressed while Steve goes out for his morning run, then props himself up on the couch with his tablet. He tries searching for articles on brain health but most of what he finds is either too technical to understand or too terrifying to contemplate so he reads the news instead. 

When Steve gets back he informs James, “I just need to have a shower and get changed, then we’ll go up.” 

“Go up?” James repeats with confusion. He never bothered to retain the actual details of the appointment, preferring to leave that up to Steve, but now he wishes he had. 

“We’re going up to Tony’s floor to meet the doctor,” Steve reminds him. 

“How are they going to do the CT scan? I don’t think Tony has one of those.” 

Steve shrugs. “I left that up to Tony. He said he’d find a way to get us out of the tower without anyone seeing us. Knowing him it probably involves some technology I can’t pronounce the name of.” He disappears down the hall to the bathroom. 

James tries to busy himself with reading an article about the Federal Reserve System but he can’t wrap his brain around the words. He puts his tablet aside. There’s nothing that can take his mind off of what’s about to happen so he sits silently on the couch, twisting his hands in nervous anticipation. It seems to take forever for Steve to get ready. When he finally emerges James is eager to get going and rushes them both into the elevator. 

“No sense in delaying,” he says miserably. 

When they arrive at Tony’s floor they find him talking to a tall thin man with dark hair and a beard. He’s wearing some sort of blue tunic with a bright red cape that seems to be moving of its own accord since there’s no breeze in the room. “Hey Capsicle, I was wondering when you and Robocop would show up,” Tony says by way of greeting. 

“Good to see you Tony. Where’s the doctor?” Steve asks. 

“That would be me,” the man in blue says, stepping forward to shake Steve’s hand. “Doctor Steven Strange.” 

Steve gives him a firm handshake and then gestures to James. “Steve Rogers. This is James. He’s the patient today.”

Strange shakes James’ metal hand and doesn’t seem to be disturbed by it at all. “We should get going. We don’t have much time,” he says.

“How are we getting there? Are we taking the quinjet?” Steve asks. 

“Nothing so glamorous.” Strange grins at Tony.

“Hey, don’t knock my Quinjets. They’ve got open bars,” Tony shoots back. 

Strange holds out one hand with a rather heavy looking ring on it while he makes a circle with the other. Orange sparks flare to life and form a ring large enough for a person to step through, showing what looks like a mop closet on the other side. James takes a step back in trepidation, looking to Steve for reassurance but finding him looking equally as gobsmacked. “What sort of doctor are you?” James blurts out. 

“I’m a neurosurgeon. Come on, we haven’t got all day.” Strange ushers Steve and James through the circle, which is now making an alarming hissing sound, and then closes it down behind him. 

“Um, what just happened?” Steve wonders.

”I opened a dimensional gateway in the mop closet of the hospital I used to work at. I have some friends here who can help us with the CT scan and keep James’ identity a secret,” Strange explains. 

“Used to? You mean you’re no longer a doctor?” James can’t help asking. 

“Career change. I mostly function as a Master of the Mystic Arts now but I owed Stark a favour, plus your situation was of great interest to me. Multiple memory wipes - that’s gotta hurt.” Strange opens the closet door and leads them down the hallway. 

“Glad my broken brain is of use to someone,” James mutters. 

They enter a room full of blue metal lockers on either side with a bench in the middle. Strange pulls a gown down from a nearby shelf and says, “Put this on. You can keep all of your stuff in one of the lockers. When you’re ready the door to your left is the CT room.” He lets himself out. 

James stares at the gown he’s holding and suddenly feels overcome by a wave of panic so strong it nearly knocks him to his knees. Steve gently wraps an arm around him, murmuring, “Easy now,” and lowers him to the bench. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” James groans, hiding his head in his hands.

“Yes you can. I’ll be right there with you and nothing bad will happen, I promise,” Steve picks up the gown from where it’s fallen to the bench and holds it out. “Why don’t I go outside while you get undressed?” 

James doesn’t want to be alone. “Stay, please,” he begs. 

“Are you sure?” Steve asks. 

James nods. “Just don’t look.”

Steve turns around so his back is to the bench and keeps up a steady stream of encouragement while James gets undressed. “I know this is really scary for you but just try to breathe. Nobody here is going to hurt you but if anyone tries I’ll bust their head in.” 

James chuckles as he shrugs on the gown and ties it at the side. “You always did have a way with words. It’s okay, you can look now.”

Steve turns around again. “Come on, let’s go. They’re waiting for us.” 

James allows himself to be led out into the CT room but stops short the minute he’s through the door. The thought has suddenly struck him that the machine is a tube and he’s going to have to go inside it. He shivers, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the paper-thin hospital gown, wishing that he could be anywhere but in the room that reminds him of cryo. 

Steve senses his distress and soothes, “You’re going to get through this just fine. Try to relax and remember that I’ll be right here waiting for you.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” James says nervously. 

Steve tugs on his hand and pulls him further into the room. “I know you don’t want to do this but we need to find out what’s going on with your brain. The sooner the better.” 

James closes his eyes and tries taking a few deep breaths. It doesn’t help much. “You’re right. Might as well get it over with,” he says with grim determination. 

He allows the technician, a petite blonde woman in brightly patterned scrubs, to get him situated on the table. She places pillows under his head and knees but it doesn’t make him feel any more comfortable. “The scan will start in a few minutes. Make sure to lie very still. Be quiet and don’t move your head at all,” she instructs.

James chews on his lower lip. He’s edging closer and closer towards feeling terrified of the whole situation and he just wants it to be over. He tries to tell himself that this isn’t the same as the cryo tube. He’s not going to be frozen until someone has need of him again; he’s just going to get scanned and then he can be on his way. He watches as the technician pulls a lead apron off of a hook and hands it to Steve. “You can stay in the room if you want but you’ll have to wear this.” 

Steve puts it on and for the first time during this whole ordeal James manages to crack a smile. The apron is bright yellow, which is so not Steve’s colour. “Yeah, laugh it up. I look ridiculous,” Steve encourages, grinning at him. 

“You should think about adding some yellow to your uniform,” James says. 

Steve waves a hand at him dismissively. “Nah, you don’t mess with perfection.” 

The technician goes into another room filled with computer monitors and James spots Strange standing there with her. Just before the machine starts he says nervously, “Can you talk to me while this is happening? It’ll help if I’m distracted.” 

“Sure thing,” Steve agrees. The machine starts up and the table begins moving through the scanner. James holds himself stock still, breathing rapidly and trying to focus on the sound of Steve’s voice. He keeps up a one-sided conversation of idle chatter about whatever comes to mind and James feels his tense muscles begin to relax. It’s not like the cryo tube at all, not when he can hear the sound of Steve’s voice anchoring him back to reality.

Within fifteen minutes the scan is complete and he’s free to sit up. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” Steve comments. He takes off the lead apron and the two of them go back to the locker room so James can get dressed. They meet Strange outside in the hall. 

“We’ll go somewhere private and go over your results,” he says brusquely, striding down the hall and leaving Steve and James to follow in his wake. A few doors down from the mop closet where they entered the hospital, Strange motions them into a lounge and shuts the door. He performs a spell that opens up another burst of orange sparks and places it in front of the door. “That’ll keep anyone from coming in.” 

Steve and James take a seat on the sofa while Strange opts for an armchair across from them. “So, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” 

“Don’t care. The good news won’t matter after we hear the bad anyways,” James grumbles. 

Strange’s lips quirk up for the first time since they’ve met him. “I love realists.” 

“Just get on with it,” James sighs. 

Strange leans forward with his hands on his knees and tells them, “The good news is the CT scan revealed that your brain is perfectly normal. There’s no signs of damage which, quite frankly, I **was** expecting to find. Stark wasn’t able to provide me with very much information about the machine used on you but it seems Hydra invented something that was able to wipe your memories without any physical harm.” 

“Then why did it hurt so much?” James asks. 

Strange shrugs. “No idea. I don’t even know how they implanted the trigger words. The notes in the file were severely water damaged because the Hydra archives suffered a flood in nineteen sixty-three and Stark could only do so much to restore them. A lot of documentation was also lost over the years. After awhile it seems that your handlers didn’t know how the words worked, just that they did.” 

“Do you have any idea how to fix it?” Steve says. 

“Not a clue. I’ve never seen anything like this before and I used to be one of the top neurosurgeons in the country. I can do some research but this is so far outside of the realm of normal that I don’t even know if I’ll be able to help,” Strange admits. 

James sighs. “It couldn’t have been easy, could it?” 

“We’re not going to give up. There’s probably something we can do but we just haven’t found it yet,” Steve insists. 

“I hate optimists,” Strange mutters. “Come on, we’ll head back to the tower and give Stark the bad news.”

They exit the hospital through another portal in the mop closet.


	15. Chapter 15

James heads into Amy’s office and drops heavily into the nearest chair. “Rough day?” she asks. 

“More like a rough week,” he moans. 

“I’ll bet. Dr. Strange passed on the results of your CT scan and I know it wasn’t what you were hoping for.” 

“I don’t know what I was hoping for. I don’t even know how I feel,” James sighs. 

“Then I think it’s time to do some work on identifying and processing emotions,” Amy suggests. She hands him a worksheet with several arrows and corresponding emotions to each one. “Which one describes you best right now?” 

James peruses the sheet for a moment. “Scared, I guess.” 

“Good. Now you’ll notice that there’s a scale. The scared arrow goes from ‘a little uneasy’ to ‘terrified’. How scared are you feeling right now?” Amy asks. 

James tries to to answer but what comes out instead is a sob and he clamps a hand over his mouth. Amy hands him a box of tissues. He accepts them gratefully and wipes roughly at his eyes. “Terrified. I’m fucking terrified. I-I don’t know…what if there’s no way to fix me?” 

“James, you have some of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever known working together to find a solution. You just have to give them some time,” Amy says reassuringly. 

“I watched the video, the first one. I destroyed the living room. We don’t have time because I’m dangerous and I could hurt someone,” James snaps. He twists the tissues in his hand angrily, tears beginning to pool in his eyes once more. 

“As long as you remain in the tower and the trigger words aren’t spoken you can refrain from harming anyone. The Soldier might be dangerous but James Barnes isn’t. Your reaction to watching what was done to you is perfectly normal. Fear and anger are natural,” Amy says calmly. 

James looks at the sheet and sees the angry arrow goes from ‘slightly irritated’ to ‘enraged’. “Enraged doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about Hydra.” 

“Honestly, I’d be worried if you weren’t angry James but you need to decide if you’re going to feed that emotion. I would suggest that you find an outlet that doesn’t involve destroying anything,” Amy says. 

James doesn’t think he can do that. “I was built to destroy. It’s all I know.” 

“It doesn’t have to be. I’m giving you an assignment today to try new things. Find an activity that helps you create something and channel your energy into it. Now let’s go over the rest of the emotions. There’s disgusted, which ranges from ‘a little turned off’ to ‘horrified’. Have you felt that at any point?” 

“I’m horrified with what Hydra’s done. The things they made me do…” 

“And how about sad? Where do you fall on the scale of ‘a little down’ to ‘in despair’?” Amy asks. 

“I don’t know. It’s hard to be sad for what I’ve lost when I can’t really remember having it in the first place. I guess sometimes I do feel sad that Steve doesn’t get to have Bucky Barnes back. He’s got me instead and I know I’m a poor substitute,” James answers. 

“So you feel like you and Bucky Barnes are two separate people then?” Amy prompts. 

“Yeah, I think Bucky died when Hydra created the Winter Soldier. They kept wiping him…me…and after awhile there wasn’t enough of him left to stop the Soldier from taking over. 

“And what about now? Are you still the Soldier?”

“I’m…” James hesitates. “I’m not the Soldier and I’m not Bucky. I’m what’s…what’s left of the two. It’s like when you break something and you try to glue it back together. It’s never the same again because you’ll always see the cracks.” 

“Have you thought about who you want to be?” Amy questions. 

James shakes his head. “Natasha said that. She’s a friend, I guess. She told me that I should find out who I am on my own terms but I don’t know where to begin. I don’t think I can do that until we figure out how to deal with the shit that Hydra put in my head.” 

“That’s holding you back, isn’t it? Even now you’re letting Hydra dictate who you are and how you act. You don’t need them gone to figure out who you are and what you’ll do going forward. I know you’re afraid of losing everything again but there’s little to be gained by not trying,” Amy says. 

James nods. “Makes sense.” 

“We also have ashamed on our emotions list. Is that one you’re feeling a lot of lately?” 

James looks down at the drawing of the arrows again and sees that it ranges from ‘slightly embarrassed’ to ‘mortified’. “That depends on the situation,” he mutters. “Having to put on that stupid gown for the CT scan was definitely ‘slightly embarrassed’ but I’d say the nightmares make me mortified.” 

“In what way?” Amy inquires. 

“I don’t just have a bad dream. I’ve yelled and cried in my sleep, I’ve fallen out of bed, I’ve been ready to attack anyone that comes near me, and sometimes I vomit. Steve always come in to help but that makes it so much worse. I don’t want anyone to see me like that.”

“There’s no shame in having nightmares or reacting to them or even accepting Steve’s help. They’re your subconscious way of processing the trauma that’s happened to you. Your conscious mind might not remember it but your body does,” Amy reassures. 

James looks down at the sheet and sees the arrow labeled “happy” pointing away from all of the others, going from “amused” to “ecstatic”. “How do I get there?” He stabs a finger at the paper. 

“By defining what makes you happy and setting goals to get you there. I want you to think about that and we can discuss it at our next session,” Amy says. 

James sighs but he nods. He’s feeling completely emotionally exhausted right now and all he wants is to go back to his floor and hide from the world. Amy notices the expression on face and ends the session for the day.

“Thanks. I know we have a bit of time left but I just can’t today,” he explains. 

“It’s okay James. I understand,” Amy says kindly. 

He leaves her office and takes the elevator back upstairs. When he enters the living room there’s no sign of Steve. James grabs his tablet and goes to his room to lie down with it for some light reading. Instead he finds himself thinking about the Hydra files again. “JARVIS, can you give me access to the Hydra files?” 

“My apologies Sargent Barnes but Captain Rogers has requested that he be present if you were to view the files again.” 

“Where is he? Tell him to get his ass down here.” 

“In the gym sir. I will notify him of your request.” 

James stuffs two pillows under his head and reclines on the bed to wait while browsing a news site as a distraction. About ten minutes later he hears the sound of footsteps down the hallway and Steve pokes his head through the door. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants with sweaty hair curling limply over his forehead as he unwinds tape from around his hands. If James wasn’t so focused on wanting access to the files he’d be having thoughts about attractive Steve looks like that.“Hey, JARVIS said you wanted to look at the Hydra files again?” 

“I do but I can wait until you’ve had a shower,” James laughs. 

“JARVIS made it sound it urgent.”

James crosses one leg lazily over the other and says, “I’m sure I can wait another ten minutes.” 

Steve leaves the room and seconds later he hears the sound of the shower running in their bathroom. James opens Youtube on his tablet and clicks on a video about cats. It’s sufficiently distracting until Steve’s finished cleaning up and reappears in James’ bedroom wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He takes a seat on the other side of the bed. “Ready?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” James instructs JARVIS to give him access to the Hydra files and opens one up on his tablet. 

“No videos this time and if you’re angry or upset about anything you read let me know,” Steve reminds him. 

James sighs. “I promise I won’t destroy anything.” He thinks he should feel annoyed about how overly concerned Steve is but he can’t bring himself to be since he did demolish the living room last time. It is a little weird with Steve watching him though. “Are you just going to sit there staring at me?”

“Why don’t I get my sketchbook?” Steve disappears to his own room for a moment and comes back with his book and a set of pencils. When he’s settled back on the bed again, James turns his attention to the file he’s opened. 

After the dictation from Arnim Zola that he read previously there’s some notes that are nearly indecipherable. They turn out to be details about James’ mental state and behaviour during the first few months of his captivity. It seems that he fought Hydra’s goons every chance he got, once nearly escaping from the facility before he was dragged back and tortured for hours by being water boarded.

Zola’s solution to the non-compliance with Hydra’s demands was confinement to a cramped space. A one meter by one meter wooden box was constructed with a locking mechanism on the outside and restraints on the inside. In subsequent notes, Zola describes how James was forced into the box, chained up, and left there for days on end as a means of breaking his will. According to the notes, the sleep deprivation wore him down to the point that he started hallucinating and began yelling for Steve. He was promptly taken back to his cell and subjected to a beating. 

James puts the tablet down and takes a deep breath. He’s not sure if he can read much more. “Are you all right?” Steve asks. 

James nods. “I’m okay. What are you drawing?” 

Steve puts down his pencil and turns his sketchbook towards James so that he can see. “Thought I’d draw you since I haven’t for so long.” 

James leans over to see a perfectly accurate sketch of himself lying back on the bed with his tablet in hand. “This is really good Steve. It looks just like me,” he says in amazement.

Steve grins. “I used to draw you all the time when were kids. A lot of times I was too sick to do any physical activity so I’d watch you play with the other kids from the neighbourhood and I’d draw.” 

James frowns for a moment, thinking hard, and eventually the hazy outlines of memory begin to form. “Did I play baseball?” he asks.

Steve gives him a fond smile. “We both did. You taught me how to pitch.” 

James grins at him. “Hope I was a good teacher.”

“You were the best,” Steve tells him. 

James picks up the tablet again. He’s determined to read as many of the notes as possible, even if it turns his stomach or gives him nightmares because he needs to know. It seems like the sensory deprivation was only the beginning of Zola’s twisted “program” to turn him into the Soldier. There are notes on how he was stripped, had cold water poured on him, and was left in a freezing cold cell with no access to food, water, or a toilet, along with a short paragraph about the extraction of several fingernails. Everything is written in a very matter-of-fact style. James can almost feel Zola’s emotional distance from the proceedings as he reads ahead. 

The notes continue on with more torture: more beatings, more water boarding, more hours in the locked box, and more starvation, followed by injections of various drug cocktails that were cooked up by Hydra scientists and injected into James. He can’t pronounce the names of half of them but, knowing Zola, they probably caused an extreme amount of suffering. James chews on his lower lip. He can feel his eyes welling but he tells himself that he won’t cry. He doesn’t remember any of it so how can he even be upset? He scrubs a hand over his face and puts the tablet aside. 

“James?” Steve says from beside him. 

James curls up in the fetal position next to Steve and mutters, “Sorry.” He tries to hide his face with his hands to keep his friend from seeing him, even though it’s not the first time he’s cried in front of Steve. A gentle hand touches his shoulder and slides up and down in a comforting motion. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Steve reminds him.

James’ throat is too tight for him to speak. Instead he just lets himself break down, bolstered by the knowledge that when he falls Steve will catch him.


	16. Chapter 16

_Bucky’s strapped into a chair and he can’t move his arms or legs. He strains at the steel holding him tight, even though he knows that his hope for escape or rescue will be fruitless since he’s been told that Steve is dead. He screams furiously around the gag that’s been stuffed in his mouth._

_“There’s no use in fighting, Soldier. You are to be the new fist of Hydra,” Arnim Zola’s voice ghosts towards him. Bucky screams again and lets out several muffled curse words. Zola seems to find this amusing. “Soon you will not remember. Thanks to my new invention the core personality will be erased, allowing us to mold you as we see fit.”_

_He reaches over and turns on the machine. Searing pain shoots through Bucky’s head, worse than any headache he’s ever endured, and he clamps his teeth down on the gag, whimpering in agony. Zola’s grinning face is the last thing he sees before everything goes black._

James sits bolt upright in bed and moans in fear, reflexively clutching at his head even though he’s not in any pain. Thankfully he hasn’t broken anything in his sleep this time but his blankets and pillows have all been swept out of the bed and onto the floor. He groans in frustration when he hears the door open. “Bad dream?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah,” James mumbles. He reaches over and switches on the lamp on the bedside table. 

Steve drifts into the room and hovers near the end of the bed, wearing that pinched expression again. “Do you need anything?” 

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep again but you can go back to bed. There’s no sense in ruining your night too,” James says wearily.

Steve moves closer and begins gathering the blankets from the floor. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

James swings his feet over the side of the bed and hunches over, deliberately looking at the floor instead of Steve. “I dreamed about Zola. I know you’re going to tell me not to read any more of the Hydra files because of the nightmares but I want to finish them all. I need to.” 

Steve dumps the blankets at the end of the bed and takes a seat next to James. “I’m not going to tell you to stop because I know you’re going to read the rest of them whether I like it or not,” he says without a hint of resentment. 

“I dreamed about the first time they put me in the chair. They took everything from me, Steve,” James admits. 

Steve reaches out and rests a hand on James’ wrist. “I know and I’m sorry. This is all my fault because I let you go. If I’d followed you none of this would have happened.” 

James’ head snaps up and he stares at Steve, who’s deliberately not looking at him. “No,” he whispers. “No, it wasn’t your fault. You tried to save me, didn’t you? I-I remember…” 

Steve presses his mouth into a firm line and his hands twist on his lap. “I tried but it wasn’t enough.” 

James yanks his arm away and grabs Steve by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. “I don’t blame you, okay? I can’t because you’d never let me go on purpose.” 

“No, never, but I should have been able to save you,” Steve says miserably. 

“It wasn’t you, it was Hydra. It’s like Tony said, it’s all Hydra’s fault,” James insists. 

Steve finally lifts his gaze and looks James in the eye, shaking his head. “I can’t forgive myself. You protected me all those years and when it came down to it I couldn’t do the same for you.”

“You’re protecting me now. When you found out I was alive you didn’t rest until you found me again and brought me home with you. I’m here in the tower, safe from Hydra, because of you,” James points out. 

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s not just because I care about you, it’s partly because I’m trying to assuage my guilt. I dream about the train all the time,” Steve sighs. 

“Are the nightmares really bad? I never hear you at night,” James says. 

“I only have them once in awhile now but when I first got out of the ice they were awful.” Steve’s staring down at his hands with a morose expression.

“Did you ever talk to anyone about them?” 

“No, it just hurt too much. For everyone else it was all in the past but for me it was like that stuff had happened last week. Nobody could understand,” Steve admits. 

“Not even me. I might have spent the last seventy years being controlled by Hydra but at least they let me out and I got to see ****some**** changes, even if I only remember a few of them now. It must have been a complete shock for you.” 

Steve worries his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before speaking again. “It was but it got a little better after I made some friends.” 

“I’m glad you did. I never would have wanted you to be alone,” James says. 

Steve smiles weakly at him and then rises from the bed. “You should try to go back to sleep. I won’t hang around and keep you up any longer.” 

He turns to leave but James reaches out and grabs him by the wrist. “Don’t go,” he blurts out. 

Steve turns back to him. “Are you sure?” 

James feels a flush rising in his cheeks as he sputters, “I don’t want to be alone right now. It’s okay if you don’t want to though…I mean I won’t be upset or anything…it’s just…” He can’t put it into words but the idea of not being physically close to Steve anymore leaves him feeling bereft. 

“It’s okay. I can stay here,” Steve assures him. He reaches down to the crumpled pile of blankets at the bottom of the bed and starts untangling them. “Do you want to try sleeping again?”

“I guess.” James curls up on the left side of the bed and watches lazily as Steve lies down beside him, pulling the blanket over top of both of them. 

“We haven’t done this since we lived in that crappy apartment back in Brooklyn,” Steve chuckles. 

James grins at him. “You used to snore.” 

“No I didn’t. You used to tell me that to tease me but it wasn’t true,” Steve huffs in mock indignation. 

“Good-night Steve.” 

“Night,” Steve murmurs before rolling over and curling up with his back to James. 

James closes his eyes and within moments he’s asleep. When he wakes up again the sun’s shining in through a crack in the blinds, casting a beam of light too close to his face for his liking. James turns over to avoid it, only to nearly knock into the solid body next to him. For a moment he’s confused. Then he remembers asking Steve to stay last night and realizes that for the first time since he’s come to live in the tower he’s slept through most of the night. 

Steve is spread out on his back with one arm above his head and the other at his side. He looks almost angelic with his mussed golden hair and long lashes fanned out across his cheeks. James watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, thinking that it would be nice to just rest his head on that broad expanse of muscle and listen to the beating of Steve’s heart. He groans inwardly. He tells himself that he can’t keep getting his feelings mixed up. He and Steve have never been more than friends and that’s the way it’s going to stay. The museum’s display on Peggy Carter had made it clear there had been something between her and Steve, a hint at what could have been had Steve not crashed the Valkyrie. 

James quietly rolls out of bed, pads down the hall, and enters the kitchen. After starting the coffee maker he sits down at the breakfast bar, resting his head in his hands. Every time he’s tried to tamp down his feelings they re-emerge again, stronger than before. James starts to wonder if maybe this is just another thing that’s broken about him. Maybe it’s something else that Hydra did to his brain in order to create the monster they turned him into. 

“Everything all right?” Steve says from the doorway. James jumps in his seat. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Steve getting up.

“I’m fine, just not awake yet,” he mumbles, pasting on a smile that he hopes is convincing. 

Steve frowns at him. Clearly he doesn’t buy it but he doesn’t push the issue. Instead he walks over to the cupboard and gets out his favourite coffee mug. “You sleep okay?” 

“Yeah, much better than I normally do. No nightmares after you stayed,” James says. 

Steve smiles at him. “That’s good. Maybe you’re starting to make progress.” 

“I don’t know. The nightmares are still pretty bad sometimes. Either I dream about killing people or I dream about what those sick bastards did to me.” 

Steve makes his way across the kitchen and gives him an affectionate clap on the shoulder. “I think that’s to be expected after everything you’ve been through. I know you’re working hard on your therapy though. You just have to give yourself some time to work through it all,” he encourages. 

James watches him cross the kitchen again to fill his coffee mug and then add cream and sugar. He doesn’t mind being touched by Steve, even though being touched by other people still makes him feel weary sometimes. He wishes he could have more of it. Steve would probably be okay with it if asked but then he’d be doing it out of a sense of obligation for a friend. James only wants what’s freely given, even if it’s only a small dose. 

The sound of Steve’s phone ringing breaks the silence in the kitchen. “Hey Nat. Didn’t feel like trespassing on my floor today?” he says when he picks up. “Yeah, that sounds good….You could just have JARVIS tell me these things you know…Yeah, well get with the times. The future is gonna be run by robots…Sure, we’ll be there. What are we having? Okay, sounds good. See ya.” He hangs up the phone and takes a sip of his coffee before filling James in on the conversation. “Dinner tonight on Tony’s floor.” 

“What’s the occasion?” James asks. 

Steve shrugs. “Dunno. Tony just likes to throw parties. He hasn’t had one in a while because he’s been so obsessed with the Hydra files. I guess he’s finally taking a break.” 

“Did he find anything that would help with the trigger words?” James asks hopefully. 

“He found a few references to the machine they used to wipe your memories but there isn’t much to go on. He’s working with Strange to see if they can rig up some tech that only erases the trigger words but it’s very slow going.” Steve takes another sip of his coffee.

All of the colour drains from James’ face. “No,” he whimpers. “N-no, I d-don’t want them erasing my brain. It’ll take everything from me and then I won’t remember again.” 

“You’ll only be losing the trigger words, I promise. I wouldn’t do let them do anything to you if I thought you’d be in danger of losing all of your memories again. Tony’s our friend. We can trust him, remember?” Steve consoles. 

“But can he trust me? What if something goes wrong? What if it turns me back into the Soldier and I hurt someone? I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore,” James says frantically. 

Steve sets down his coffee and crosses the kitchen again, reaching out for James and patting him gently on the arm. “If you’re really not comfortable with the procedure you can choose not to do it and I’ll support you. We can find another way. Let’s just see what they come up with first.” 

James looks down at Steve’s hand on his arm. He’s gripping the metal one and it makes James ache to know that he’ll never have any sort of feeling in it other than pressure. “Okay,” he agrees,“We’ll see.” He gets up from his seat and departs for his bedroom to change into a pair of jogging pants, a t-shirt, and running shoes.

When he emerges again Steve’s got the frying pan on the stove, prodding at something with a spatula. James can tell by the tenseness of his shoulders that he’s worried. “Is it okay if I go down to the gym?” he asks. 

Steve turns to face him and he’s got a stricken expression on his face. “You don’t have to ask to go anywhere in the tower you know.” 

James scuffs his toe on the kitchen floor and deliberately doesn’t look at Steve. “I just need to burn off some nervous energy. Dr. Sullivan says I need to start doing more things for myself.” 

“Do you want breakfast before you go?” Steve asks. 

“Not yet. I’ll eat when I get back.” James lets himself onto the elevator and asks JARVIS to take him down to the gym. When he gets there he finds it deserted. A quick look around shows that there’s a variety of workout equipment, a boxing ring, several mats for sparring, and most surprisingly, a rock-climbing wall. 

James just wants to beat something up so he chooses the nearest punching bag and gives it an experimental smack with his metal hand, hard enough to send it flying. The bag sways but doesn’t break. James realizes that it must be reinforced somehow so he starts beating on it with both fists and throws in the occasional kick. It feels good to work out his frustrations and some of the tension from earlier begins to ebb out of him, leaving him pleasantly exhausted. 

“It’s a good thing Stark made those reinforced bags, otherwise you’d have destroyed half the gym by now,” a voice says from behind him. 

James catches the bag in mid-swing and turns around. “Natasha,” he acknowledges.

“Wanna tell me what’s up with you?” She’s standing there with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised at him.

“Nothing,” James grunts. He turns around and slams his metal fist into the bag again. 

“Nothing’s got you pretty pissed off,” Natasha says sardonically. “I take it it’s something to do with Steve, otherwise you’d be with him right now.” 

James glares at her. “It’s to do with me and my fucked up brain.” 

“And it’s something you can’t tell Steve,” Natasha guesses. 

James halts the bag once more and turns to face her again, adopting a defensive stance to his posture. “Hydra took me apart and I can’t put myself back together again. The pieces don’t fit anymore.” 

“Like that’s not cryptic,” Natasha scoffs. She carefully edges closer to him and reaches out to grasp his flesh arm. In a softer tone, she says, “You can tell me if you want. Chances are whatever it is can probably be matched by something I’ve done so I won’t judge you for it. I know there are some things Steve can’t understand because he hasn’t been through what we’ve been through. Even if I can’t help I can commiserate.” 

“I..I have…I feel…” James falters. Natasha says nothing, waiting for him to find the right words. “How can you tell if something is who you really are or if it’s something that was put inside you? I don’t remember how I felt before but I know what I feel now and it’s…I just don’t know.” 

“If it’s something not related to missions, maintenance procedures, or obeying your handlers that means it’s yours,” Natasha says. She fixes James with a knowing look and he gets the uneasy feeling that she can see right through him. 

“It’s still wrong though,” James mutters. He catches the sympathy that floods her gaze and he looks away. 

“Define wrong.” 

“It’s illegal. You either go to jail or you get thrown in the nut house and that’s only if you don’t get beat to death first,” James growls, yanking himself away. He can’t look Natasha in the eye. Now that she knows what he is she won’t want anything to do with him. 

“James,” she says, reaching out and grabbing his arm again, “It’s not illegal anymore. Things have changed. If you do some research you’ll find out just how far things have come over the years. You can even get married in some states now.” 

James’ eyes widen and his jaw drops. “What?” 

Natasha’s smiling at him now. “You don’t have to hide if you don’t want to and if Rogers has anything to say about it I’ll kick his ass.”

James laughs humourlessly. “There’s still the small matter of losing my best friend.”

“Steve nearly went crazy trying to find you and bring you here. At this point I’m pretty sure there’s nothing about you that could be a deal breaker for him. You won’t know how feels without asking him though,” Natasha points out. 

James shakes his head. “I’m not ready for that yet.” 

“Give it some time. Just don’t wait too long though,” Natasha cautions. She leaves him rooted to the spot as she saunters off to the locker room. 

James feels like all of the anger at himself has been drained out of him. His heart’s not in working out any further so he gets back on the elevator and asks JARVIS to take him upstairs.


	17. Chapter 17

When James arrives upstairs Steve is nowhere to be found but he assumes his friend has gone for a run. He makes himself some toast and instant oatmeal, devours it while sitting at the breakfast bar, and heads off to take a shower. He examines himself in the bathroom mirror. He looks weary, unshaven, and his hair’s a mess. It’s not something anyone could ever find attractive, especially when combined with his past and the metal arm. 

James lathers his face with shaving cream and removes the stubble he’s been sporting for several days now, which makes him feel marginally better. After a quick shower he dresses himself in jeans and a t-shirt and sits down on his bed with his tablet. Natasha had said to look up changes in history and since Steve isn’t around it’s as good a time as any. 

A search brings up an overwhelming amount of information so James clicks the first link in the list and gets taken to a Wikipedia article with a timeline of LGBT rights in America. He scrolls past most of the basic information, only giving it a cursory glance before stopping at the section on the 1960s titled Gay Liberation. James starts with the Stonewall Riots and reads on from there, pouring over decades of history that either passed him by or were forgotten. He reads about marches and demonstrations, decriminalization, and the push to make sexuality a protected class, along with the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell in the military, and bans of conversion therapy in some states, culminating in the legal right for two people of the same gender to marry. 

James quickly erases the browser history on his tablet to cover his tracks even though Steve isn’t technologically savvy enough to go digging deeper and he’d probably be loathe to invade James’ privacy. He sets the tablet aside and lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. If he wants to date a man it doesn’t have to be a secret. They don’t have to sneak around and try to pretend they’re not queers. They can get married and live together as spouses instead of pretending to be roommates. 

It would all be so tempting if he didn’t have to worry about Steve. James isn’t sure where his friend stands on such an issue, if he still has 1940’s values or if this new time and place has changed him. For a few seconds his ridiculous broken brain tries to indulge in a fantasy of what a relationship with Steve would be like but he shuts those thoughts down quick. There can’t be any place for them in his life. Steve’s always been unfailingly kind to him, even well before the serum, because it’s in his nature to protect anyone he cares about. James can’t count the number of times Steve’s been there for him to support him, to encourage him to be better, and after the serum, to rescue him when in need. He’s never given up on James, giving him a home and a sense of belonging, even when everyone in his life told him that it was best not to pursue the Winter Soldier. 

James can’t ruin any of that. Not having Steve in his life would tear his heart out and he doesn’t think he can survive, not after everything he’s been through. Much as he likes Natasha he can’t take her advice. Footsteps sound from the hallway, breaking James out of his thoughts. 

“Hey,” Steve greets him when stops in the doorway. “Everything all right?” He’s wearing blue shorts and an obscenely tight gray t-shirt with sneakers. His hair is sticking up and his cheeks are pink. James thinks he looks he adorable. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a moment,” he lies.

Steve comes into the room and perches himself at the foot of the bed near James’ feet. “You know that if something’s bothering you, you can tell me, right?” 

“I know. It’s just that sometimes there are things people who aren’t former brain-washed soviet assassins can’t understand,” James says. He hates keeping the truth from Steve but there’s no way he could even begin to think of telling him about it. 

Steve’s lips curve up. “You talked to Natasha.” 

James nods. “I did. I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you or anything but sometimes there are things that just...” he trails off. 

“I understand. Sometimes you need to talk to someone who’s been there and done it. If Nat gave you any advice you should follow it. She’s usually right about stuff,” Steve says. He gives James a crooked smile and pushes himself off the bed. “I’m going to get changed and then I’ve got some stuff I want to work on. I’ve been meaning to turn the spare bedroom into a studio so I can do some painting when there aren’t any world-ending catastrophes going on.” 

“Sounds good. I’m just going to read for a bit,” James says. After Steve leaves he picks up his tablet and turns it on again but finds that none of his often-visited sites hold his interest. He can’t stop thinking about the article he just read. He wonders what Steve would have to say about queers if asked. 

He’s never been one to discriminate against people, having been treated badly in the past for his small stature, and he’s always hated bullying or unfairness to the point where it’s gotten him into trouble sometimes. Still, however comfortable Steve might be with James’ sexuality, he might take issue with the fact that the feelings in question are directed at him. James groans and scrubs a hand over his face. He really doesn’t need this right now on top of the rest of his recovery. 

James puts his tablet down again and lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He wonders if he had these feelings before his time in Hydra’s clutches and not being able to remember frustrates him to no end. The few memories he’s managed to gain back indicate that he dated women but they can’t answer the question of who his heart really belonged to. He decides it doesn’t matter anyways since it’s clear that Steve would have rather been with Peggy anyways. James turns on his side and closes his eyes for a moment. 

A crash from the hallway startles him, causing him to sit bolt upright in bed then roll off into a crouch before he even knows what he’s doing. When he hears Steve cursing, his brain finally overrides the Soldier’s reflexes so he straightens up and goes into the hall to investigate. Steve’s in the middle of it with an easel and a huge stack of canvasses scattered at his feet. “Sorry if I startled you. I was trying to carry too many things at once,” he apologizes. 

“No, it’s okay. Let me help.” James picks up a stack of canvasses and takes them into the spare room. Steve’s already got a desk and several tables set up, all cluttered with various art supplies. Heaps of paintings haphazardly line the room, propped against the walls. 

“It’s a bit of a mess in here. I haven’t got everything set up yet,” Steve says as he wrestles his easel through the door. He catches James looking at the paintings and smiles. “I brought over a few things that I had in storage. There wasn’t much room in my old place for them but I can hang them all here now that I’m officially moved in.” 

“These are beautiful.” James is in awe of the talent his friend possesses and he can’t help but flip through the canvasses to see all of them. There are about a dozen landscapes, one painting of the tower, several water colours of everyday objects like fruit or flowers, and a handful of portraits. James realizes that a few of them are people he recognizes while others seem to be random. At the very back of the pile are some half-finished works that contain nudes. James blushes and drops the stack back against the wall. 

Steve catches his expression and laughs. “I was experimenting for awhile. I thought I’d improve my skills on capturing the human form.”

“I suppose it’s not pornography if it counts as art,” James jokes. 

“It’s easier to start without the clothes when you’re learning. Helps you capture things like proportions and muscle definition.” 

James sees an opening and goes for it. “So, is there a reason why there were more men than women?” he asks smugly. 

Steve’s cheeks go a little pink and he turns away to busy himself with setting up the easel in the nearest corner. “It’s, uh, harder to paint men because they have fewer curves.” 

James can feel himself smirking. “I thought you’d enjoy painting curves.” 

Steve finishes setting up the easel and turns around again. “I did a few portraits of Peggy but I gave them to her family when she passed away. I wanted them to have something nice to remember her by.” 

The sadness in Steve’s eyes wipes the looks off James’ face. Of course it’s about Peggy. Everything somehow connects back to Steve’s feelings for her and he needs to remember his place in Steve’s life. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have been for you when she died.” 

Steve’s looking at him strangely. “We should have lunch before I start organizing anything in here,” he says in a strangled voice. He exits the room, leaving James standing there by himself.

_Smooth, real smooth asshole. First you try to flirt with your best friend and then you make him sad and top it off with complete and utter weirdness_ James tells himself. He waits in the room to give Steve a few minutes before following him down to the kitchen. When James enters he sees Steve pulling ingredients out of the fridge and stacking them on the counter. 

“I’m just going to make some sandwiches. It’s not fancy but it’s something I can’t screw up. Want some?” he says casually. 

“Yeah, okay,” James replies. Steve seems to be ignoring the awkwardness from a few moments ago so he makes an effort to do the same. He decides that asking asking more questions about Steve’s art should be a safe bet and it’s probably something his friend would be happy to talk about. “Did you ever take art classes? I feel like maybe you did but I don’t know for sure.” 

Steve looks up from where he’s layering ham and cheese onto bread and answers, “I did take a few when I could scrape up the money. I convinced you to come along once but you hated it.”

James laughs. “I probably realized that I didn’t have a quarter of your talent you punk.” 

“You didn’t do well at sitting for long periods of time and concentrating either. Dancing was more your thing.” 

James feels his face fall. “I don’t remember how to dance,” he reveals. 

“Your mind forgot but I bet your body remembers - muscle memory and all. I’d offer to teach you but I was always terrible at dancing,” Steve reassures him. 

James gives him a fond smile, his mind echoing with the ghost of a memory of a tiny blonde boy with two left feet. “Did you dance at all?” 

“I mostly watched. I think you took every dame in Brooklyn for a swing around the dance floor at least once,” Steve says. 

James pokes at a piece of tomato on his plate that’s fallen out of his sandwich. “You always make me sound like such a ladies’ man.” 

“You were,” Steve chuckles.

“Key word - ** **were**** ,” James points out. He wonders if can feel out any other details, namely whether or not there’s any hint that he ever liked men back when he was Bucky Barnes. 

But Steve just looks at him fondly as he says, “I’m sure you can find someone special again. You just have to build up your confidence. Didn’t Dr. Sullivan tell you to try new things?”

“What’s not to love? I mean there’s the memory loss, the metal arm, the past history of murder, and the fact that I’m legally dead,” James deadpans.

Steve tries to suppress a snicker and fails. “Well you’re definitely getting your sense of humour back.” 

James just rolls his eyes. The rest of their lunch passes in pleasant silence and James volunteers to clean up the dishes afterwards. “I’m going to organize my studio. Just yell if you need anything, Oh, and don’t forget we have dinner on Tony’s floor tonight. I heard we’re getting pizza,” Steve calls as he disappears down the hallway. 

“I won’t!” James turns on the tap and adds a dab of dish soap. As he watches the bubbles foam up on the surface of the water he feels a surge of frustration at himself. He can’t think about his feelings for Steve anymore. It’s stupid and childish to even entertain the idea that the two of them could ever be together.

He resolves to attend Tony’s party, have a good time, and forget about everything for awhile, even if he does feel a little nervous about it. The idea of being in a room full of people makes him anxious but it’s comforting to know that he can trust everyone who will be there. Steve’s friends are probably the closest to allies he’ll get at this point in time. 

James sighs in annoyance and plunges the sandwich plates into the dishwater. Every time he thinks life will get easier it just gets more confusing. Maybe he can talk to Natasha when Steve’s not in earshot. He sets to work scrubbing the crumbs and mustard smears from the dishes.


	18. Chapter 18

James and Steve arrive at Tony’s floor to find about a dozen tables set up and piled high with various kinds of pizza. There’s also coffee, soda, and a large quantity of alcohol. James takes one look at the crowd of people wandering about the penthouse and tries to quash the uneasy feeling that settles in his gut, making him feel like he’s swallowed a jar full of butterflies. 

His feelings must show on his face because Steve says, “It’s okay James. You already know Tony and Natasha and everyone else here is nice. Are you all right with being introduced to some new people?” James can’t find his voice so he just nods. He lets Steve lead him over to a group and make the introduction.

“Guys, this is James. James, this is Maria Hill, Sharon Carter, and Clint Barton. Sharon and Maria are helping Tony with SHIELD’s rebuilding project. Clint’s a sniper,” Steve says. 

“Carter? You mean like Peggy?” James blurts out. 

Sharon smiles at him and says kindly, “She was my favourite aunt. Did you know her?” 

“I-I think I did. She was…feisty.” James feels nervousness building in the pit of his stomach again. Steve’s friends are going to think he’s a complete moron.

But Sharon just laughs at him and replies, “Yeah, that’s one word to describe her.” 

“She once punched a guy twice her size in the face and dropped him like a sack of potatoes,” Steve adds, grinning. He makes small talk with Maria and Clint for a few minutes while James stands there feeling somewhat awkward. He doesn’t say anything when Steve makes an excuse and steers him away to introduce him to a few more people. 

In short order he meets a friend of Tony, Colonel James Rhodes, who asks James to call him Rhodey, a girl named Wanda and her twin brother Pietro, who both have thick Eastern European accents, and a petite Asian lady Steve refers to as Dr. Cho. James makes an effort to greet them all but doesn’t know what to say afterwards. He lets Steve handle most of the talking. 

After awhile it gets to be too much and he starts to sidle away from Steve, looking for a place he can sit where he won’t be too overwhelmed. “Need a minute?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, I’m just going to sit down for a bit.” 

Steve eyes him critically for a moment and then nods. “You’re sure you’re doing okay? If you want to leave it’s okay, you know.” 

James shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave. I just need a few minutes to myself.” 

“Okay. If you don’t mind I’m going to talk to some friends. Make sure you eat something,” Steve reminds him.

James feels like he should make a joke about Steve’s mother hen tendencies but he can’t seem to get any coherent thoughts past his lips. He settles for, “Okay,” before heading over to the pizza table. The choices are almost endless so he sticks to plain pepperoni, piling a few slices onto a plate and then grabbing a soda. He shuffles across the room to a chair in a secluded corner and starts wolfing down his food in peace. 

A few minutes later James sees Natasha from across the room. She’s got her own plate full of ham and pineapple and seems to be looking for a place to sit. James waves to her. She crosses the room and drops into the chair next to his. “I am so bored right now. I hate small talk.” 

“Me too,” James replies. 

Natasha frowns at him. “You look a bit pale. Are you feeling anxious?” 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen this many people in awhile,” James mutters. 

Natasha takes a bite of pizza and then washes it down with the beer in her hand. “If you do want to go back downstairs at some point, let me know and I can tell Steve.” 

“Okay,” is all James can manage. It feels like his brain has short circuited, preventing him from getting too many words out at once. He forces himself to take a deep breath and then concentrates on talking to Natasha. If he doesn’t think about the others in the room it helps somewhat.

“Did you think about what I said this morning?” she asks. 

“You mean…about Steve?” 

“Yeah. Have you decided what you’re going to do?” 

James fiddles with a pizza crust on his plate. “I can’t tell him,” he says quietly.

“If you don’t it’s going to eat you from inside. Don’t you think it’s better to know where you stand?” she admonishes. 

James looks across the room to where Steve is talking animatedly with Sharon. He laughs at something she says and seems to be comfortable when she places one of her small hands on his arm. Steve looks like he’s holding himself taller and straighter, with one thumb tucked into the belt loop on his jeans. They look perfect together and it makes James’ heart sink into his stomach. “Steve’s not like that.”

“How do you know that?” Natasha asks. She’s eyeing Steve as well but she’s smirking. 

James frowns. “Do you know something I don’t?” 

“I know that every time I’ve tried to set him up with a woman he turns it down. He uses the lamest excuses. And when he had to kiss me he practically hyperventilated. He was pretty freaked out.” 

James’ head whips around to stare incredulously at her. “You two have kissed? Steve said you were just friends.” 

“We were hiding in plain sight from some of Hydra’s goons. Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable and they don’t look directly at you.” She takes another bite of her pizza. 

“But there was Peggy,” James reminds her. 

Natasha snorts with laughter. “Is there any evidence that anything happened between them or do you just believe what you read?” 

“It’s the way he talks about her. I can tell that he really cared about her and he misses her. Besides, I was probably dead for most it or I’ve had wiped from my mind,” James says. 

“Caring isn’t the same as love. I can’t think of a single woman Steve would traverse the world to look for but he did it for you. You know, in the entire time I’ve known him he’s never asked for any sort favour, except for when he found out you were alive. A lot people owed him and he cashed all of it in just to find you,” Natasha reveals. 

James sighs and pokes at the leftover pizza crust left on his plate again. “He might love me but it’s not romantic. I think he sees me as a piece of home that he could get back. Waking up in the future and finding out that everyone had either died or gone on without him must have been a serious blow.”

“It’s more than that. Ask him how he feels before it’s too late,” Natasha says.

James is saved from trying to argue further when he sees Steve heading across the room with a plate piled high with pizza slices and a beer. He drops into the chair on James’ other side and grins at both of them. “You know I’m a bit worried that the two of you seem to be hitting it off so well. You’re probably trading stories about me, aren’t you?” he jokes. 

“Of course we are,” Natasha says smugly. 

Steve tips one of his pepperoni slices onto James plate. “I know you’re still hungry. Eat that.” 

James rolls his eyes. “Yes ma,” he sighs. Beside him Natasha giggles. 

“Have you seen Stark? This is his party and I haven’t run into him yet.” 

“Yeah, last I saw he was shotgunning beers with Clint,” Steve says casually. 

Natasha begins poking fun at Steve again and James tunes out. His gaze flickers towards the nearest window where he sees that the sky is growing dark with thick gray clouds overhead. Thunder rumbles in the distance. “Uh guys, did the forecast call for rain?” Clint calls from across the room. 

“Nope, that must mean-” Steve starts to say but he’s cut off by a loud crash of thunder and lightning sparking across the sky. James jumps in his seat at the sudden noise. Steve reaches out and grabs his hand, murmuring, “It’s okay. It’s nothing to worry about.” James squeezes his hand hard. His heart rate has ratcheted up and his breathing has quickened as his whole body becomes tense as a coiled spring.

The thunder sounds again and a blast of lightning comes frighteningly close to the tower. Then, just as quick as it came, the sky clears and a man drops onto the balcony with something held under his arm. “Tony didn’t tell me he invited Thor,” Natasha comments in a bored tone of voice, as if such a thing is an every day occurrence. 

“I don’t think he did. Thor’s been MIA for quite awhile,” Steve says. They watch as Tony strides over to the balcony and throws open the doors. 

“Hey Pointbreak, good to see ya! What’s with the hair and eyepatch? You get a gig moonlighting as a pirate?” Tony babbles in his trademark stream-of-consciousness style. 

James turns to Natasha to ask her how it’s possible that a mythological Norse god is now in Tony’s penthouse but she’s already set aside her beer and is rising from her chair. “I don’t believe it,” she mutters. James frowns. Something has clearly rattled her. She stomps across the room and starts threading her way through the crowd of people. 

The look on Steve’s face becomes worried. “Oh no, this isn’t going to be good.” He gets up and follows her. James trails behind, not wanting to miss out on whatever’s about to happen, and ends up standing behind Maria Hill on the edge of the crowd. “Nat, stop!” Steve hisses but it’s no good.

It turns out that whatever Thor was carrying is actually a man with brown eyes and curly salt and pepper hair. Natasha makes her way over to him and snaps, “Where the fuck have you been?” before shoving him violently in the chest. He stumbles backward but manages to regain his footing again. 

“It’s a long story,” he sighs. 

“Well it’s good to have you back Bruce. You’re looking pretty sharp these days. I think your sense of style has improved,” Tony interjects. 

Bruce rolls his eyes and then scrubs a hand through his messy hair. “Don’t flatter yourself Tony. They were the only clothes nearby after I turned back into myself.”

Natasha’s glaring at him so fiercely that if looks could kill he’d be dead on the spot. “I thought you were dead.” 

“I might as well have been. The other guy took over and I didn’t change back until Thor rescued me,” Bruce says. 

Natasha’s gaze softens just a fraction at that. “How long?” 

“Two years,” Bruce answers. He holds her gaze for a moment and James can see the apology that’s written in his eyes. “You know before it always felt like the Hulk and I each had a hand on the wheel but this time it was different. It was like he had the keys to the car and I was locked in the trunk.” 

“I found him on a garbage planet called Sakaar. They were using him as a gladiator,” Thor supplies. 

Bruce lets out another long suffering sigh. “I don’t wanna talk about any of this right now. I just want to have a drink, a shower, and then put on my own clothes.” 

“Scotch?” Tony asks, handing him a glass. Bruce accepts it gratefully and drops himself down into the nearest chair.

“I guess that leaves it to Thor to fill us in,” Clint says. 

“It’s a rather long and sad tale my friends. You might want to make yourselves comfortable,” Thor announces. He takes a seat in the chair next to Bruce, looking like a king about to hold court as everyone scrambles to get seating nearby. James hovers for a moment, not sure if he should try to grab a chair or remain standing, but Steve takes him by the arm and steers him to a pair of chairs directly across from Thor. 

“All right, spill. I wanna know what you’ve been up to since you disappeared,” Tony demands. 

“I went looking for the Infinity Stones but I came up empty-handed. What I did find was the nine realms completely in chaos, enemies of Asgard plotting our demise while the Allfather did nothing. I got word from Surtur before I defeated him that there was a prophecy indicating that Ragnarok was upon us,” Thor begins.

“Wait, wait, wait. Who’s Surtur and what’s Ragnarok?” Tony interrupts. 

“Surtur is a fire demon who rules the realm of Muspelheim and Ragnarok is - was- the prophesied end of days, the end of Asgard and the beginning of yet another cycle of death and rebirth. Surtur told me that once he united his crown with the eternal flame that my father kept locked away in his vault he would rise up to destroy Asgard.” 

“Tell them the part about your sister,” Bruce chimes in.

“You have a sister?” Tony says incredulously. “Is she hot?”

Thor holds up hand to stop him. “I’m getting to that. Anyways, to shorten the story some, I discovered that my father was not on Asgard. Loki had exiled him to Earth and taken his place in disguise so we travelled here to find him.” 

There’s a loud clang as Clint drops his beer. The can rolls under his chair and begins spilling out onto the floor but he pays it no attention so Tony gestures to one of his bots to clean it up. The look on Clint’s face is somewhere between anger and fear. “You said Loki was dead! Was that a lie?” 

“My friend, I truly believed Loki to be dead when I delivered that news. I had no idea that he was on Asgard the entire time, masquerading as Odin,” Thor says apologetically. 

“Where is he now?” Clint demands.

“He’s here on Midgard but do not fret. I have his assurances that he won’t cause any trouble until I can secure him safe passage elsewhere.”

“Yeah, that worked out so well last time,” Clint snarls. 

Natasha puts a hand on his elbow. “Clint, there’s nothing we can do right now.” 

He snatches his arm away from her. “ ** **Thor**** could do something but apparently he’s choosing not to!” 

“I assure you that Loki will bring no harm to your planet. It’s a condition of his freedom. If I hear that he has stepped a toe out of line I will not hesitate to punish him,” Thor says. He produces a small blue device that reminds James somewhat of a remote control and holds it up for Clint to see. “I picked this up on Sakaar. It controls an obedience disk that cannot be removed once it’s secured to the skin. Loki will behave or he will suffer great pain.”

Clint looks somewhat mollified by the admission but he’s still glaring at Thor. He slumps down in his chair and crosses his arms like a petulant child while Thor resumes his story. “To continue my tale, we found my father but he was dying. He told us a sad story, that he had imprisoned his first born, my sister Hela, the Goddess of Death. Only in his lifetime could she remain banished. Once he died she was free.” 

“You have one messed up family,” Tony says. 

“Tell me about it,” Bruce snorts. 

“Hela destroyed my hammer, banished us, and briefly took control of Asgard. Loki and I were abandoned on Sakaar where I was imprisoned and forced to become a gladiator. The Hulk and I fought and, naturally, I won,” Thor says.

“Are you sure that’s right?” Bruce asks skeptically. 

“Yes, I won quite easily,” Thor insists. “I was able to escape and once Bruce became himself again we started a revolution and returned to Asgard with the help of a friend of mine. To shorten this very long tale, we were able to defeat my sister when I realized that instead of preventing Ragnarok we had to cause it. Loki put Surtur’s crown into the Eternal Flame and he destroyed both my sister and Asgard.” 

“Wait, are you telling us that Asgard doesn’t exist anymore?” Natasha asks. 

Thor nods. “It’s rather unfortunate but the prophecy had to be carried out. Asgard isn’t a place anyway, it’s a people. Loki helped me rescue them.” 

“So if Asgard doesn’t exist anymore, where exactly did you take them?” Tony asks. 

“We found a place. The Midgardians have informed me that it’s called…Oklahoma, I think?”

“ **Where** in Oklahoma?” Tony persists. 

Thor furrows his brow, clearly thinking hard, and then answers, “There is a small village nearby. I have heard it referred to as Broxton. I used gold from the former Asgard treasury to purchase a plot of land from the village rulers and then raised it up by using the Odinforce. It now exists above Midgard as a new home for my people.” 

“What do you mean ‘exists above’?” Tony snaps. 

“It floats in the sky, of course,” Thor says as though it’s the most obvious thing ever.

Tony looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm and begins massaging his temples. “So just to summarize, you brought a ship full of illegal aliens to an already overpopulated planet, decided to set up shop in the sky, and are going to live there permanently. And there’s a giant hole in the ground!”

“Yes, but as king of Asgard it fell to me to procure a new home for our people. Midgard seemed as good as any place to start,” Thor says, completely oblivious to the reaction he’s just caused in his friend. 

James lets out a snicker at the exasperated look on Tony’s face with his lips pressed firmly together and narrowed eyes glowering at Thor. He turns to look at Steve and sees that he’s trying valiantly to suppress a smile. “Tony, they’re not hurting anyone and as long as they live in peace they’ll be fine. At least they paid for the land,” Steve says. 

Tony throws up his hands and heads over to the alcohol to pour himself a tumbler full of scotch. “Fine, I don’t know why I bother with any of you! Never mind that you’re breaking about a zillion laws, both federal and state!” 

“Tony, just chill out for a moment. I’m sure SHIELD can handle this if they don’t mean us any harm,” Steve tells him. 

“You don’t get to tell me what SHIELD can and can’t do Capsicle! Cause you know you’ve been so helpful with our rebuilding efforts while you were off searching for Robocop there!” Tony snarls, jabbing a finger in Steve’s direction. 

James feels resentment bubble up inside of him and he springs up from his chair, lashing out with, “Steve’s done enough for this planet! He doesn’t owe it to you to help.” Steve grabs his arm and tries to pull him back into his seat but he resists, yanking it away angrily. 

“James, leave it,” he pleads. 

Tony pauses and his eyes narrow with anger, veins standing out starkly in his neck as his face flushes crimson. “Listen here-” he starts to say before Maria Hill gets up from her chair and cuts him off. 

“Steve’s right. SHIELD will handle this.” 

“What, all three of us? You, me, and Sharon are the only ones putting forth any effort whatsoever here!” Tony complains.

“Then maybe it’s time to start recruitment so we’re not spread so thin. Sharon and I will handle liaison with the Asgardians if you work on that,” Maria says sharply. 

Tony lets out a sigh and then takes a sip of his scotch. “Fine. I’ll have Pepper make some calls and we’ll set up some interviews. In the meantime we’re gonna forget all about all this shit and finish off this party in style.”


	19. Chapter 19

James is curled up on the couch with his tablet in hand, scrolling through some of the Hydra files while Steve makes breakfast in the kitchen. “Do you want toast?” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” he says absently. 

_The use of memory modification has been successful. Prior to the mission the Asset was withdrawn from the cryo chamber and prepped by administering the trigger words. The Asset was given the parameters for the mission and completed it promptly with no survivors. Subject was then placed in the chair for further memory modification. Maintenance procedures were performed and the Asset was returned to the cryo chamber._ __

James tries to remain detached from what he’s read but it’s impossible not to feel distraught. After the very first set of notes he had access to they stopped referring to him by his name. Not James Buchanan Barnes. Not Sargent Barnes. Not Bucky. The Subject. The Asset. 

“I wish you wouldn’t read that right now,” Steve says as he sits down beside James. He hands over a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast. James accepts it but only prods at the food with his fork. 

“I wasn’t a person to them. I was a thing. They acted like I was a machine that needed calibrating in order to work right,” he says quietly. 

Steve frowns at him. “That’s why I don’t like you reading the files. It just reminds you of the shit you went through and it makes you worse.”. 

James finally picks up a forkful of eggs and shovels them into his mouth. He chews and swallows but it doesn’t taste like much. “What if Tony and Dr. Strange can’t fix me?” 

“You don’t need fixing,” Steve reassures him. 

“I do if I don’t want to spend the rest of my life locked in this tower,” James says sharply. 

Steve winces. “Point taken.” 

“What’s going on with Hydra anyways? Last you told me they were a splinter group trying to re-mobilize.” James stuffs another forkful of eggs into his mouth. It goes down a little easier this time. 

“They’re not doing a good job of it. Their Strike and Insight crew were taken down after the wreck in the middle of the Potomac. Most of them are dead or in prison right now. From what Maria’s told me what’s left are mainly scientists and a few lower level goons. They don’t have anybody running the show right now so things are kind of in chaos. We’re trying to get intel on a location because we suspect they have a base somewhere that they’ve concealed but it hasn’t turned up yet,” Steve explains. 

“And me?” James asks.

“They’re looking for you, no question about it. They think that if they can get you back they can work on returning Hydra to it’s former power.”

James takes a bite out of his toast and then sets it back down on the plate. “Let me guess; you’re going to cut them off at the knees, right?” 

“That’s the plan. I might have to go away for awhile once we find them. Tony’s right about me not exactly being helpful lately,” Steve says. 

“I’m sorry,” James mutters. He doesn’t feel much like eating any more so he sets his plate down on the coffee table. 

Steve takes the tablet from where it’s resting on his lap and sets it aside. “Don’t be.” 

They sit in silence for a few moments while Steve finishes his breakfast and James stares off into space, feeling more lost and confused than ever. If he were braver now would be the time to tell Steve how he feels but he can’t summon up the courage. Natasha will be disappointed in him. Instead, he says, “Why me? Why am I the one who ended up on that table in Azzano, out of everyone else in that cell they were keeping us in? Why was I the one that their fucked up experiments worked on? Why didn’t I die?” 

Steve looks like he wants to say something but isn’t quite sure how to voice it. Finally he answers, “I don’t know. I don’t know why anything happens anymore. I had the same sort of questions when they defrosted me. I wondered why I didn’t die when I crashed the plane. I wondered why I had to be found and woken up when I could have stayed asleep for the rest of the eternity. In the end you just have to accept that there’s no answer.” 

James curls up on the opposite end of the couch from Steve and draws his knees up. He doesn’t feel angry like the first time he opened the Hydra files; he just feels drained. “I’m tired.” 

“Finish your breakfast. You need to eat,” Steve urges. James picks up the plate and manages to finish his toast but he leaves the rest of the bacon and eggs. He lays down on the couch and curls up in the fetal position, ignoring Steve’s worried glances until he drifts off. When he wakes up he finds that he’s been covered with a blanket and Steve is in the kitchen talking to someone. 

James gets up and pads over to find Steve and Thor drinking coffee at the breakfast bar. He takes the seat next to Steve. “Hey,” he says groggily. 

“Hello, I believe we met at the party,” Thor says. 

“Yeah, I remember.” James yawns and attempts to stretch his neck a little. He’s a bit sore from sleeping on the couch. 

Steve gives him a concerned look. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better. Just need to wake up a little,” James mumbles. 

“So, the Captain tells me that the two of you are old friends and that you are a most formidable warrior,” Thor says cheerily. 

“I don’t know about the warrior part but Steve and I have known each other since we were kids,” James replies. 

Thor takes a sip of his coffee and grins. “I take it you have many amusing stories about him then.” 

“I might have one or two,” James chuckles. “Steve was a little punk who used to get himself into trouble. I had to save him.” 

“Hey! I could take care of myself just fine!” Steve exclaims. Thor tries to suppress a snicker and fails. Steve eagerly re-directs the conversation away from himself, turning serious for the moment. “You said you had something that could help us with James’ memory loss?”

Thor nods. “Aye, I do. I heard Stark discussing your predicament with Banner at the party and it seems that they are at an impasse. I can help but it will involve considerable risk.” 

“Just tell us what we have to do,” Steve says without sounding the least perturbed about the word ‘risk’. 

“It seems that when I sent my brother to put Surtur’s crown in the Eternal Flame his greed got the better of him. He took as many objects from my father’s vault as he could conceal and brought them with us when we escaped. I later discovered them hidden on the ship, which is when I decided to use the obedience disk to prevent any further betrayal on his part. I am currently in possession of the tesseract. I believe that you can wield its power to restore your friend’s memories if your intentions are pure enough,” Thor explains. 

James has no idea what the tesseract is but from the look on Steve’s face it can’t be good. “We can’t because it’s too dangerous. Look at what happened last time it was on Earth!” 

“But it will not be used to bring harm this time,” Thor argues.

“That doesn’t matter! It shouldn’t even be here! If anyone finds out that you’ve got it they’ll try to steal it and use it to gain control of Earth. Look at the destruction it caused!” 

“Sorry to interrupt but can someone please explain to me what we’re talking about?” James asks.

Steve turns to face him and he looks weary. “The tesseract is a cube that houses an infinity stone; at least that’s what we think. It was originally being guarded in Norway but then Johann Schmidt stole it and used it to make weapons for Hydra. When I fought him on the plane I saw it disintegrate him and burn a hole through the floor. It fell into the ocean. Howard Stark eventually fished it out when he was looking for me and it was in SHIELD’s hands until Loki turned up and stole it. He used it to open a wormhole and let in an alien invasion that destroyed half the city. It’s dangerous, especially if it falls into the wrong hands.” 

“I’m sure that your hands are not the wrong ones Captain,” Thor cuts in. 

James shakes his head. “No, it sounds too dangerous. I’m not…I’m not worth it Steve,” he chokes out. 

Steve reaches out and grasps James’ wrist. “You’re always worth it. It’s just that there’s so much potential for things to go wrong. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Thor rises from his chair. “I would suggest that you take a few days and reconsider. I will be on Asgard but Stark has provided me with this device that I can receive messages on.” He pulls out one of Tony’s Starkphones and holds it gingerly, as if simply touching it might shatter it. “Thank-you for the drink but I must be returning now.”

James watches as the two of them say their good-byes before Thor heads to the elevator. He hates to say it but he desperately wishes that Steve would take his friend’s advice. The prospect of getting his memories back is incredibly tempting but from the sounds of it he won’t be able to make this decision unless Steve agrees. He wonders if simply handling the tesseract by himself would work but Thor had said that Steve would be need to be the one to do it. James thinks that maybe due to his past he can’t touch the tesseract without it exploding or something. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Steve says when he sits down again. “I know it sounds like a good idea to you but I need you to trust me. The tesseract is extremely dangerous and it shouldn’t even be on Earth. I’ll have to tell the rest of the team.” 

“I understand. I guess we’ll have to rely on Tony and Dr. Strange to keep working on a solution,”James manages to spit out. He leaves the kitchen and goes to his bedroom where he shuts the door. He curls up and tries to block out the world.

At some point Steve knocks and James can hear him speaking from outside the door but he doesn’t respond. He pulls his pillow over his head and tries to ignore everything that isn’t outside the cocoon of his bed. He wishes he could stay here forever and never move, like a warmer and more comfortable version of the cryo chamber. 

At various points throughout the day Steve knocks again, trying to entice him with offers of food, entertainment, or simply just talking but James doesn’t budge from where he’s been laying. Finally, when the sun’s begun to go down and the room’s getting darker, Steve knocks one last time. “Look, I know you’re upset with me but we need to talk about it. I’m coming in.” 

James hears the door open but he doesn’t give any sign that he’s awake. The mattress dips when Steve sits down on the bed and he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I need you to look at me,” Steve says. James pulls the pillow away from his face and stares at his friend dully. 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“I want you to know that I’m not doing this deliberately. Like I told you, it’s too risky to even think about using the tesseract. Tony and Dr. Strange are really our best chance to find a way to get rid of the trigger words and work on regaining your memories.” Steve’s using his Captain America voice and it only serves to make James feel angry. 

“ **Our** best chance? Don’t pretend that you know what’s best for me!” he snarls. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

James unconsciously clenches his fists and the plates in his metal arm make a whirring noise as they shift in rapid succession. “You don’t understand what I’ve lost. **Seventy! Fucking! Years!** Seventy years of being tortured, of being made to do what they wanted, having to be ‘ready to comply’ whenever they needed to use me and then having my memory wiped over and over again! You don’t know what it’s like to have someone fuck up your head so badly that you don’t even know who you are or that you have a past! I just want back what they took from me!” 

His breathing hitches in chest and he’s on the brink of bursting into tears. Steve reaches over and tries to touch him again but James yanks his arm away. He doesn’t want to look at Steve, doesn’t want to see the pity that’s sure to be present in those blue eyes. Silence hangs between them for a moment before Steve says softly, “You’re right, I don’t know.” 

James finally lifts his head and lets Steve see the tears streaking down his cheeks. “After seventy years why I can’t I just have this one thing?” He finally breaks, feeling his body tremble, and lets out a loud sob as his face contorts with grief. Steve inches closer and wraps both arms around him. James rests his head on Steve’s broad shoulder and weeps. 

“Okay,” Steve says in a voice choked with emotion. “Okay, we’ll do it. I’ll talk to Thor.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Steve, this is insane! You can’t just let Thor waltz into my tower with a piece of alien tech that has the potential to destroy everything in its path!” Tony rages as he paces the room. 

James is sitting on the couch in Tony’s penthouse, listening intently to the discussion between Tony and Steve about the tesseract. Steve insisted that they make Tony aware of the plan for Thor to bring the tesseract into the tower since they’ll need a safe space away from everyone’s living quarters to use it. 

“I know that it’s unsafe but what chance do we have? If this was just about James getting his memories back I’d say find another way but we need to remove the trigger words! It’s a risk in itself that they can still possibly be activated. What if he turns into the Soldier again and tries to kill everyone or escape back to Hydra? Do we really want them to get their hands on their greatest weapon again?” Steve argues. 

Tony looks like he’s trying to wear a path in the carpet from the bar back to the couch. He’s got a tumbler full of scotch in his hand and a pair of ridiculously expensive looking sunglasses perched on top of his head. “Something is terribly wrong here when **I’m** the voice of reason.” 

“You told me yourself that you’ve barely made any progress with the trigger words,” Steve points out. He’s sitting next to James on the couch, occasionally throwing worried glances his way. 

“Do you remember what happened last time the tesseract was on Earth? Because I sure do. It ended up with me carrying a nuke through a wormhole,” Tony snaps. 

“Nooo, of course not. It’s not like you ever mention it,” Steve says sarcastically. 

As James watches the exchange between them he feels more and more defeated. He leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees and stares at the floor. Steve and Tony have been going around in circles for the better part of an hour now with no resolution or compromise in sight. “Forget it,” he mumbles. 

Tony stops in front of the couch. “What?” 

“Forget it,” James repeats in a defeated tone of voice. “I…I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s not fair to potentially make everyone else in this building suffer just for me.” 

Steve scoots closer on the couch and rests a hand on his shoulder. “No. After everything you’ve been through you deserve to get back the one thing you want. You haven’t asked me for anything since you moved in except for this. I’ll find a way, even if it kills me.” 

“Is that why you suddenly changed your mind last night? I can handle not getting what I want Steve! I’m not made of glass!” James snarls. Steve’s looking at him like a kicked puppy and James can’t stand the sight of it anymore. He buries his face in his hands and tries to pretend that Steve and Tony aren’t staring at him. 

“Cap, can I have a word? You know, in private?” Tony asks. When Steve nods the two of them head to the farthest corner away from the couch. They’re still within James’ field of vision but far enough away that he can’t hear what’s being said, especially since Tony’s asked JARVIS to put on some music. Classical piano filters through the speakers in the penthouse.

James can’t see Steve’s face but his posture is a dead giveaway for his feelings. His slouched spine and slumped shoulders give off an air of tiredness that makes him look every inch of his ninety-odd years. Tony pats him on the shoulder and his face takes on an affectionate expression. He says something that James can’t make out, then nods. As the two of them return to the couch he lowers his gaze to the floor again, trying to pretend that he wasn’t watching them both the whole time. “Bad news or good?” 

“I don’t even know. We’re going to meet with the team this afternoon and tell them the plan. We can’t hide this from them, especially Clint. Loki used the tesseract to control his mind last time. He’s still pretty sore about it,” Steve answers wearily. 

James sighs. “So it comes down to a vote then?” 

“Only for bringing the tesseract into the tower. If we get outvoted we’re leaving, no matter how dangerous it is. I don’t care if I have to fight off all of Hydra. I’ll take you to Asgard myself,” Steve says defiantly. 

“Steve, I don’t think-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not worth it again,” Steve warns. James quiets down and the two of them decide to take the elevator back to their floor. 

“Get some rest you two. You look like you’re both ragged out,” Tony tells them just before the doors shut. 

When they reach their floor, Steve heads to his bedroom, claiming that he needs a nap. James follows him and then hovers in the hallway. He can’t explain it but he doesn’t want to be away from Steve at the moment, as if his best friend will vanish into thin air should they separate. Steve notices and asks, “You okay?” 

“I…” James can’t find the words. “Can I..?” 

The corners of Steve’s lips quirk up just a little and he seems to understand. “Yeah, you can.” The two of them lie down in his bedroom and before they know it they’re both out like a light.

When James wakes up again it’s late afternoon and Steve’s made grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner. JARVIS informs them that they have thirty minutes before the meeting on Tony’s floor so they eat quickly and then take the elevator back to the penthouse. Upstairs they find Clint, Natasha, Thor, Tony, and Bruce sitting clustered on and around the sofa and chairs. They opt for two chairs facing most of the group.

“So, now that we’re all here let’s get this show on the road,” Tony announces. He’s the only one to show any sort of enthusiasm. Thor and Steve are both stone-faced, Natasha looks bored, Bruce seems worried, and Clint has an expression on his face that clearly says he’s feeling very sour at the moment. James shifts nervously in his chair. 

Tony explains the technical aspect of attempting to restore James’ memories and erase the trigger words, then lets everyone know that if a genius like him can’t find a solution they’re pretty much out of options. He leaves it to Thor and Steve to explain their plan with the tesseract. The reactions from the rest of the group happen just as James thought they would.

“Absolutely not!” Clint shrieks. His face is flushed with anger and his hand twitches as though he’s itching to pull an arrow and strike someone down. 

“Are you sure there isn’t another way? I mean I could take a look at things and see if there’s any way that I can help. Maybe there’s something you missed,” Bruce offers. 

Natasha’s looking distinctly annoyed but she’s occupied with trying to calm Clint down. “Easy.” She grabs his arm and yanks him back from trying to rise from the couch. 

“Well I guess that’s a no from the judges’ table,” Tony quips. 

“Shut up Stark! You don’t know what it’s like to have someone take your brain out and play,” Clint bellows. 

“Guys, let’s just calm down for a moment and -” Steve starts to say but he’s cut off by Clint jumping up from the couch and shoving him in the chest. 

“This is fucking insane! First you tell me that Loki’s back on Earth and then I find out that you’ve got the tesseract and you’re fucking planning on using it! Do you have a death wish? Do you want the world to explode?”

“My friend, you have my personal assurance that no harm will come to anyone,” Thor interjects.

“No offense but that’s not exactly comforting,” Natasha says.

“Well even if the world doesn’t explode there’s still the possibility that Robocop here could be triggered by anyone who can say the right words and become an assassin for Hydra again. Can you imagine how much fun that would be?” Tony’s pacing the room again, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ve done the math, Strange has looked at the scans, and we’ve tried everything we can possibly think of that might work with no results. Short of just randomly frying the memory centers in his brain and hoping for the best there’s not much we can do.” 

“Do it then,” James blurts out. The room falls silent as everyone’s attention turns to him. “Wipe my brain, lock me up, put in me in cryo, but do something! Just make sure I don’t hurt anyone.” 

“Finally, someone who makes sense,” Clint says. 

Steve’s expression quickly changes from concerned to livid. James shudders. He’s seen that look before whenever something’s royally pissed Steve off. All of the tells are there - flushed face, tense jaw, shoulders squared up as if preparing for a fight, and hands clenched into fists at his side. He’s staring at Clint with a look in his eyes that’s absolutely murderous and James realizes that he should do something to diffuse the situation before it’s too late. He reaches out and rests his hand on top of one of Steve’s balled up fists. 

“Stevie.” Steve’s head whips towards him and his expression instantly softens. James chews his lower lip and he suddenly feels like he wants to cry. It’s too much to bear, having hope and then having it stripped away from him again. “I can’t do this anymore,” he says in a trembling voice. “Just let them vote on what to do with me and be done with it. I don’t deserve to get out of this and be whole again. There’s too much blood on my hands. I-I c-can’t…e-excuse me f-for a minute.”

He springs up from his chair and dashes into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door. He sinks down on the floor and draws up his knees to hide his face in them, finally letting the tears come. Outside it sounds like a melee is happening. Steve and Clint’s shouting filters in, followed by other softer voices in pleading tones, and finally Thor booms, “Enough!” Things go quiet after that but James pays it no attention. He curls up in the fetal position on the floor and covers his ears with his hands. 

“James,” Steve says from beyond the door. “Open the door, please.” 

When James doesn’t respond he hears Tony’s voice. “JARVIS, I need you to unlock the bathroom for me.” 

The lock clicks open, allowing Steve and Tony entrance. Steve kneels down beside him and touches his shoulder gently. “It’s okay. The others have left. We’re gonna go back to our floor.” James draws in a shaky breath and slowly lowers his hands from his ears.

“They’re going to erase me, aren’t they? Please don’t let them. I don’t want that. I’ll go back into cryo, I’ll let them keep me in a cell, but please don’t let them take it all away again,” he pleads. 

“Nobody’s doing anything to you,” Tony reassures him. 

James lets Steve help him sit up but he has to lean against the cupboard to stay upright. His entire body is shaking badly and his breath is coming short, sharp gasps. “Just breathe, okay? In and out, in and out, just like that,” Steve encourages. 

James takes a few steadying breaths and finds that he can almost breathe normally again but the shaking hasn’t subsided and nausea swells in his stomach. “Think ‘m gonna be sick,” he moans. Steve grabs him and quickly positions him over the toilet bowl, holding him up with steady arms as he vomits. James empties everything in his stomach and then slumps over the toilet, letting out a sob. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve keeps saying. James leans back against him, breath hitching in his chest as he fights to get control of himself. “Take deep breaths for me again, okay?” James expands his lungs fully with air and then lets it out slowly. He does this a few more times until he feels calmer and the nausea has abated. 

Tony hands him a paper cup filled with blue mouthwash. “Here, this’ll help get the taste out of your mouth.” James rinses his mouth, spits into the toilet, and then flushes before tossing the cup into the trash. 

He leans back against Steve’s solid form again. “I wanna go back to our floor.” 

“Okay. Can you stand?” 

“Yeah,” James rasps. Steve lets go of him and he gets shakily to his feet. When he wobbles a bit Steve wraps an arm around his waist and steadies him as they walk to the elevator.

“I’ll give you a call later Cap,” Tony says just before the doors shut. 

When they leave the elevator, Steve helps James over to the couch and deposits him there. “Still feeling shaky?” 

“Yeah, a little,” James says. He stretches out and stuffs a throw pillow behind his head. “I think I just need a bit of time.” 

Steve kneels down beside the couch and lays the back of his hand on James’ forehead. “You’re feeling a little warm and your face is still flushed,” he says. He’s looking at James with those sad puppy eyes again and it makes him feel a little ashamed of himself. Steve shouldn’t have to take care of him like this. 

“I’ll be fine. I just sort of lost it for a minute there,” he insists.

“That’s understandable,” Steve murmurs. He smooths back a lock of James’ hair and then drops his hand, looking kind of embarrassed. It makes James wonder if Steve could ever feel the same as he does but he quickly dismisses it. He can’t deal with his (probably) unrequited feelings at the moment when they’ve got bigger things to worry about. 

“Did you convince anyone?”he asks. 

Steve shakes his head. “I think Natasha was coming around but Bruce and Clint are a firm no.” 

“What’s going to happen now?” 

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up in the front. “We’re creating a plan so we can hopefully leave the tower without being seen and make it to Asgard. Thor and Tony will take us there.” 

James pictures them on the Quinjet with Tony flying along outside of the window in his Iron Man suit and lets out a snort of laughter. “Are you planning to suit up for it?” 

Steve laughs and flashes him a beautiful smile. “I’ll probably just bring the shield.”

James sits up on the couch and realizes that he feels somewhat better. “I think you should wear the outfit. There might be some Asgardian dames who’d like it,” he teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says affectionately. He reaches over and grabs the remote control from the coffee table. “I don’t really want to think about all this for the rest of the night. Want to watch a movie?” 

“I want Disney,” James says and he laughs when Steve groans. 

“Okay, guess we’re having a Disney marathon again,” he sighs. James makes himself comfortable on the couch and waits for him to choose the first movie.


	21. Chapter 21

James enters Amy’s office and slumps down in the nearest chair. “I know you’re going to ask me if I’ve done my homework and the truth is that I haven’t. You told me to figure out what makes me happy and set some goals but I can’t. My entire life is a dumpster fire right now.” 

“What’s bothering you, James?” Amy asks as she takes a seat across from him. 

“A lot of things,” he sighs. 

Amy crosses her ankles and shifts herself to get comfortable in her chair. “Start from the beginning.” 

James recaps the previous few days, starting with Thor’s arrival and leading up to the plan to take him to Asgard to make use of the tesseract, even including the confused feelings he’s been having for Steve. When he finishes Amy says, “That’s a real can of worms you’ve opened there James. Let’s start with your memories. What are your concerns regarding that?”

“Concern doesn’t even begin to cover it. I think terrified would be better,” he answers. 

“Are you having doubts about going?” 

James shakes his head and bounces his foot up and down with nervous energy. “No…I mean yes…I mean I want to get my memories back and I want to erase the trigger words but I’m still afraid. I don’t know what’s going to happen. And, to be honest, I feel like I shouldn’t want it because I don’t deserve it. I’m not worth Steve fighting with his friends over it anyway.” 

“It’s not wrong to want things James. After everything you’ve been through it isn’t wrong to want back what was taken from you. As for Steve, he’s an adult and he can make his own decisions about which side to be on. So can you,” Amy points out. 

“I want it all back,” James says in a voice barely above a whisper. “I want to remember.” 

“You aren’t unworthy as a person. You have three people willing to help you so obviously they see good in you.”

James fiddles with the sleeve on the hoodie he’s wearing. “Steve won’t want me around once he figures out how I feel about him though.” 

“Are you one hundred per cent sure of that?” Amy asks. 

James chews on his lower lip and leans back in his chair, trying to look anywhere but at her. “I don’t…I don’t think he’d feel the same way.” 

“But do you think he’d abandon you as a friend?” Amy persists. 

James thinks for a moment. Steve has always been loyal, kind, and fiercely protective of anyone he’s decided he cares about. He won’t desert a friend, even if he remains solely out of obligation. “No,” he says at last. 

“Things have changed, James. Captain Rogers has been living in the present long enough that he’s probably realized certain social mores from the forties have given way to greater acceptance.” 

“The thing is I’m pretty sure Steve’s not bent and I don’t know if I was either before Hydra made soup out of my brain,” James complains. 

Amy isn’t going to back down though. “Your previous sexual preferences aren’t relevant at this point. Studies have shown that sexuality can be fluid. Are you going to tell Steve?”

James shrugs. “I don’t know. I keep thinking I’ll deal with it after we get back from Asgard. **If** we get back from Asgard.” 

“You can’t sweep your feelings under the rug and expect them to go away. You need to decide how you’re going to handle this. If you don’t say anything you will have to live with the fact that you’ll never know if your feelings are reciprocated. You may even have to watch Steve fall in love with someone else, which will no doubt be upsetting to you. If you decide to tell him you’ll know where you stand,” Amy says. 

“I don’t know how,” James admits.

“I would suggest that you wait until you’re alone together and have a private chat with him. If he’s interested the two of you can decide if you would like to pursue a relationship. If he isn’t you’ll still have a deep and lasting friendship.” 

“So hope for the best but prepare for the worst?” James asks. 

Amy laughs. “Yes, that’s one way to put it.” 

They discuss the assignment James didn’t complete and then Amy suggests that he give it some more thought. After their session is over he heads back upstairs. He finds Steve sitting on the living room couch with his jacket on and his shield propped up against the coffee table by his feet. He’s reading something on his tablet. “How’d it go?” he asks absently without looking up. 

“Fine. I’m nervous but I think I’ll be okay,” James says. 

Steve sets the tablet down and then rises from the couch. “Pack up anything you want to take with you. Thor and Tony will be waiting for us upstairs.”

James grabs a jacket and then the two of them take the elevator upstairs to the penthouse. Thor’s pacing the room, dressed in regular clothing consisting of a t-shirt, jeans, and a denim jacket with a pair of ratty looking tennis shoes. Tony’s wearing a leather jacket over one of his ridiculous graphic tees with jeans and sneakers but he’s got a red and gold suitcase with him. 

Tony nods to Steve and James in greeting. “Everyone ready to go?” 

“How are we getting there?” Steve says. 

“I tried to get our resident portal conjurer to help but he’s ‘unavailable’ right now so we’re taking the Quinjet.” Tony motions to everyone to follow him and presses the button for the elevator. When the doors open, James expects to see an empty car but finds it occupied by Natasha, who’s leaning casually against the handrail. 

“Got room for one more?” she asks. 

“The more the merrier,” Tony says with a shrug. 

James squeezes in next to Natasha. “What made you change your mind?” 

“Someone had to make sure guys don’t do anything stupid,” she mutters. 

The five of them get off the elevator on the rooftop to find the Quinjet waiting for them. They pile on and strap themselves in with Tony and Thor taking the seats upfront and the rest of them on the seats lining the back. Natasha sits on the left with James and Steve to the right of her. “Is this going to be a long trip?” Steve asks.

“Somewhere around three hours,” Tony replies. 

Natasha pulls out a book to read and the others make random conversation. James fidgets a bit, feeling restless due to his nervousness about what’s to come. Steve definitely notices. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired of sitting,” he lies. 

“It’s okay if you’re worried, you know,” Steve says. 

James marvels at how easy it is for his best friend to see right through him. It must be the result of knowing each other for so long. “I’m not panicking or anything, just a little bit nervous,” he sighs. 

Steve reaches over and claps him on the shoulder. “I am too. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I know that it’s our only chance to get rid of the trigger words so I’m willing to go through with it.” 

The two of them lapse into silence again. James lets his head loll back and he closes his eyes, trying to get some rest because he didn’t sleep well again. He’s not successful. Eventually he settles for just sitting quietly and trying to think about the homework that Amy assigned him for the next session. Finally, after what seems an eternity, Tony announces, “Okay kids, we’re here. Try to make nice with the locals.” 

“Take your own advice,” Natasha retorts.

Tony opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Thor. “Come along my friends, there is much to see. We’ve been rebuilding.” 

The group is lead by him off of the Quinjet and out into a vast area of green land dotted with small structures made out of stone and wood with thatched roofs. Some areas have been set aside for gardening and there are fenced pastures containing sheep. “Uh, Thor, buddy? Where did the sheep come from?” Tony asks.

“I bought them from the neighbouring town since my people required a source of meat. There was a shepherd there who was most willing to sell off some of his flock.” Thor’s grinning as he waves to several people who have come out of their cottages to call to him. 

“I really hope Sharon and Maria handled that,” Tony mutters. 

They trudge through several fields and pastures and then climb up a small hill to where the largest of the buildings is located. “These are my current living quarters. I do apologize that it’s not up to the standard of our former palace but it will provide adequate shelter from the elements,” Thor announces. 

“It’s fine. I’ve slept in way worse places,” Natasha says. Steve agrees and James can tell that he’s probably thinking about the war. From what he’s been able to piece together, getting a comfortable sleep was considered a luxury during that time. The interior turns out to be far nicer than anyone was expecting. 

It’s got dozens of natural wood beams and a stone floor. The main floor is one enormous open room with a fireplace as the focal point and a long table with many chairs. James suspects there’s enough room for an army to eat there. A set of stairs leads up a balcony of sorts where there are three doors, which James assumes are the bedrooms. A dark haired man dressed in green and black is sitting at the table while a woman with a long dark braid stokes the fire.

“Brother, how have you been?” Thor booms, slapping a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I would be better if you’d take this infernal thing off me! And I certainly don’t need to be minded like a child when you’re not here,” the man snarls, pulling at a small disc attached to his neck. 

Thor’s expression turns dark. “You know why that can’t happen, Loki. I’ve explained that to you time and time again. Lady Sif is simply here to make sure that you behave as you’re supposed to in my absence.” 

“Hey reindeer games,” Tony says casually, as if they’re old friends, “are you an ally or an enemy today?” 

“I assure you I am very much an enemy to all of you if I’m not released at once!” If looks could kill Thor would probably be dead on the spot. 

Thor holds up the device that looks like a remote control again and a nasty little smile blooms on his face. “There’ll be no more of this behaviour. You’re acting like a petulant child! Now come and say hello to my friends.” 

Loki’s face turns red with anger but he doesn’t speak further. He rises from the table and comes to stand in front of Thor, followed by the woman. “Loki and Lady Sif, I present to you my friends. This is the Lady Natasha, the Man of Iron-” 

“Call me Tony,” Tony interjects. 

“-James and Captain Rogers.” 

“Just call me Steve,” Steve says. 

“Pleased to meet your acquaintance. I’ve heard much about all of you,” Sif says politely. James notices that she gives Steve an appraising look and he feels jealousy surge up inside of him. He stuffs it back down, telling himself that he needs to focus on why they’re here. Loki scowls at everyone and crosses his arms.

“Shall we have a drink before we attend to the business at hand?” Thor asks. 

“Yeah, I could go for a drink. What have you got, scotch, whiskey, really cheap beer?” Tony says flippantly. 

“Tony!” Natasha hisses. 

Thor grins at them. “Nothing quite so fine as what Midgard has to offer but we do have mead.” He makes a shooing motion at Loki, who disappears and comes back with several flagons, all the while looking rather annoyed. 

James is pleasantly surprised by the mead. It’s got a light, crisp taste to it and he enjoys it very much, even if he can’t get drunk due to the serum. Steve and Natasha seem to like it too but Tony wrinkles his nose. James surmises that he’d rather be drinking the expensive vodka that he keeps stocked in the penthouse. 

Never being one to mince words, Natasha says,“So where have you been keeping the tesseract? I hope it’s locked up somewhere.” 

“It’s upstairs. Lady Sif has been guarding it for me.” Thor takes a long swig of his mead, then wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “So you’ve got one person with a sword guarding a highly dangerous alien artifact that could kill everyone?” 

“We’re a little low on palace guards at the moment due to our dear sister murdering all of them,” Loki says acidly. 

Thor sets down his flagon and a sad expression creases his face, rather reminiscent of Steve’s kicked puppy look. “Hela murdered many of our own while I was captive on Sakaar. I deeply regret that I was unable to save more of them.” 

“Thor, if you hadn’t come for us we’d all be dead right now. You gave us our freedom from her tyranny,” Sif says. 

Loki’s gradually beginning to look more annoyed and finally it seems that he can’t hold his tongue any longer. “Be that as it may, if our dear father hadn’t tried to cover up her existence we could have been ready for her, prophecy be damned.” 

Thor holds up a hand and shoots a glare in Loki’s direction. “And we’ll not discuss your role in his demise. Please go upstairs and fetch the chest.” 

Loki rises from the table and snaps, “Since when do I fulfill the role of servant to you? I am a prince of Asgard!” 

“Since you attempted to betray me yet again via the use of artifacts you stole from Asgard’s vault,” Thor says in a bored tone of voice. He holds up the remote control device again. 

With much grumbling, Loki heads up the stairs and into one of the rooms, then returns with a wooden chest with a heavy iron padlock. Thor produces the key from somewhere on his person and unlocks it. “Captain, when you’re ready you may take the tesseract out of the box.” 

“Anything else I have to do?” Steve asks. 

“You’ll need to concentrate on opening the locked doors in your friend’s mind. The rest of us will be waiting outside,” Thor says. 

“Wait, we don’t get to watch?” Tony looks terribly disappointed. 

“It’s better that we be out of reach of its influence,” Sif explains. She heads to the door and motions for the rest of them to follow, leaving James and Steve alone together.

Steve takes a deep breath and then lets it out in a rush. “Last chance to back out,” he says nervously. 

James is shaking but he doesn’t back down. “Let’s do it.” Steve lifts the lid of the chest, reaches in, and pulls out a glowing blue cube. He holds it gingerly in front of him, looking unsure of what to do next. “Concentrate. Think about removing the trigger words and getting my memories back,” James reminds him.

Steve closes his eyes and his body falls into a relaxed stance. James keeps his gaze firmly on the blue cube and is amazed when the glow gradually begins to get brighter, expanding outward from the cube. As the beam of light starts to emit itself towards James, Steve groans as though he’s in pain. “Steve, what is it?”

Steve doesn’t answer but his chest is suddenly heaving as he struggles to take in air. The glow from the cube pulses outward, white hot and blinding, obscuring James’ vision. It’s so bright that he’s forced to close his eyes. “Steve, what’s happening? Steve? Steve!” he shouts. All he can hear is Steve’s screaming.

Eventually the light is so bright that James can see it from behind his eyelids, creating red and orange sunbursts. He struggles his way across the room, reaching out for Steve and calling his name over and over again, desperate to stop whatever’s happening. Steve!” James gasps. “Steve…Steve…” 

He falls to his knees and everything goes dark.


	22. Chapter 22

Bucky wakes up to find that he’s lying on a rather lumpy mattress. He tries to sit up and then moans when he realizes his head feels like someone’s taken a jackhammer to it. “Fuck,” he whispers and drops down onto his back again. 

“How are you feeling?” a familiar voice asks from his right. 

Bucky turns his head to see Natasha perched on a chair with her book in hand. “Awful,” he groans. 

“You might be feeling like that for awhile. You weren’t hurt but you’re probably exhausted.” 

Bucky struggles to sit up again and realizes just how weak his body is when his arms lack the strength to support his weight. “Steve,” he gasps, collapsing again. “Where’s Steve?” 

Natasha reaches out and pushes on his shoulder, pinning him down the mattress. “He’s okay. Thor and Tony are with him.” 

“Is he hurt?” Bucky asks frantically. He’s starting to feel sleepy again but he fights to stay conscious because he needs to know. 

“The tesseract burned his hands pretty badly but he’s otherwise okay. They took him to the healing lodge,” Natasha answers. 

“I need…need to…see him.” Bucky’s so fatigued that he can’t keep his eyes open any longer and they seem to close of their own accord. 

“Sleep,” Natasha says. It’s the last thing he hears before drops into unconsciousness. 

When Bucky wakes up again it’s nearing nightfall but he feels considerably more energized. Natasha’s moved to the floor and is stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace with her book. She hears him stir and sits up. “How are you feeling, James?” 

“Bucky,” he mutters. 

“So it worked then?” Natasha questions. 

Bucky scrubs a hand over his face and lowers his feet to the floor. “I..I don’t know…I need to see Steve.” He struggles to rise from the mattress and groans. He hasn’t slept on a surface this uncomfortable since he was in the army and it’s really done a number on his back. It must be filled with straw. 

Natasha follows him down the stairs and onto the main floor. She pulls a candle off the table, reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a book of matches. When Bucky looks at her questioningly she says, “I knew we were going to a place without electricity so I thought I’d better be prepared.” They head out of the front door and down a rocky footpath with Natasha holding the candle out in front of them so they can see properly. 

The healing lodge is down the hill and about another two hundred yards walk from Thor’s living quarters. Bucky has a bit of trouble keeping up with Natasha so she has to slow down to let him catch up to her after a few minutes. “Sorry,” he says. 

“Don’t apologize.” It takes them twice as long as it should to get to the healing lodge but they make it with Natasha supporting Bucky as they limp towards the front door. She opens the door with one hand and heaves him through it. 

The main room of the lodge is similar to the first floor in Thor’s living quarters, only smaller and cozier. A semi circle of comfortable looking chairs sits in front of a large fireplace and the room is decorated in various animal skins and furs. Thor’s dozing in one of the larger chairs but Tony’s awake, watching the dancing flames of the fireplace. He looks up when Natasha and Bucky enter. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in!” he crows.

“Shut up and help me, Stark!” Tony gets up from his chair and slots himself into place on Bucky’s other side. They half drag, half carry him through the room and deposit him into the nearest chair next to Thor. “Sit here until you’re able to get up again. I can’t carry you any more,” Natasha wheezes. 

“Hey, you were supposed to keep him in bed!” Tony says. 

Natasha straightens up to her full height and Bucky realizes just how formidable she looks for a smaller sized woman. “I told you he’d want to see Steve. We should have just brought James here in the first place!” 

“Bucky,” Bucky corrects. “How’s Steve?” 

“I checked on him awhile ago and he was still down for the count,” Tony replies. 

James uses his flagging strength to push himself up from the chair. “I want to see him.” 

Tony rolls his eyes. “I swear to god the two of you were made for each other. You’re both stubborn.” 

“Like you aren’t?” Natasha says, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Whatever. Come on.” Tony offers his arm to Bucky for support and they slowly make their way to the staircase and up to Steve’s room. Twice Bucky has to stop because he feels fatigued but he’s determined that he’s going to see Steve with his own eyes. When they enter the room, he decides not to sit in the chair next to the bed, instead opting to lay down beside Steve who’s sprawled out on his back asleep. “If you need anything, yell. We’ll just be downstairs,” Tony says. He exits the room, shutting the door behind him.

Bucky finally gets a good look at Steve. His hands are resting on top of the blankets, wrapped in some sort of dressings made out of large green leaves, but otherwise he looks perfectly fine. Bucky reaches out and gently smooths a lock of hair from Steve’s forehead. He looks positively adorable with his golden hair sticking up every which way and his mouth parted slightly. When Bucky shifts on the bed Steve’s eyes flutter and then open. 

“You know it’s rude to stare James,” he rasps. 

Bucky gives him a soft smile. “You used to say that when I’d sit up with you while you were sick. And you can call me Bucky.” 

Steve’s eyes widen at the use of the old nickname. “Did it work?” 

Bucky shrugs. “I think so but time will tell. I’m more worried about you right now. Do your hands hurt?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Not right now. Thor had Loki use magic to heal the worst of the damage and then they put this salve on and wrapped me in these leaves. I was mostly pissed off that they wouldn’t let me see you. I thought I’d killed you!” 

Bucky gives him a soft smile. “You know me, I always survive.”

“Good cause I can’t lose you again,” Steve murmurs. His head sinks back onto his pillow and his eyes close again. “I’m so tired.” 

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Bucky reassures him. He watches Steve, waits until his breathing deepens and evens out, then curls up and closes his own eyes. He spends most of the night drifting in and out of sleep, too anxious to get any proper rest because he’s not in his own bed and his dreams are too vivid. Beside him Steve slumbers like the dead. 

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Bucky manages to doze for a bit without interruption. He wakes up at sunrise to find Steve propped up in bed, attempting to eat breakfast. “Morning.” 

“Hey Stevie,” Bucky says blearily as he sits up. 

Steve gives him a fond smile as he tries to wrestle his fork into a usable position. “You haven’t called me that since we were kids.” 

“Hmmm,” James murmurs sleepily. He feels exhausted. 

“There’s breakfast for you too. Natasha left a tray over there.” Steve gestures to a tray sitting on the nightstand. Bucky pulls off the cover and is pleasantly surprised to see that Asgardian breakfast consists of foods that he recognizes: eggs, sausage, and bread with mixed berries on the side. It smells amazing. 

Beside him Steve is still trying to figure out a way wrangle his fork. “Need some help with that?” Bucky asks. 

“It’s fine, I can manage,” Steve insists.

Bucky remembers all too well how reluctant Steve is to allow someone to help him when he’s sick so he takes matters into his own hands, grabbing the fork away from his best friend. “Well tough shit. I’m helping you whether you like it or not,” he declares. He grabs the knife from the tray, cuts up some sausage, and spears a bite on the fork. He holds offers it to Steve, who simply rolls his eyes and allows himself to be fed like a small child.

Between bites, Steve says, “We should be able to go home today.” 

Bucky holds up the fork and urges Steve to eat a bite of egg and sausage. “That’s good. Stark is probably going to start complaining about having no internet and no JARVIS if we stay much longer.” 

Steve chews and swallows. “Thor wants Loki to have another look at the damage and then if it’s not too bad we can leave. Tony wants to run some tests when we get back.” 

“Why do I not like the sound of that?” Bucky asks. 

“We just need to be sure that the trigger words are gone. Tony’s got a Hulk-proof cell underground that we can use for it. I’ll read out the trigger words and if they don’t have an effect we’ll know it’s worked,” Steve explains. 

Bucky can’t help the shudder that travels through his body. “What if it doesn’t? What if I hurt someone?”

“You won’t,” Steve assures him. Bucky doesn’t try to refute that. He knows that Steve’s faith in him is blind enough that he won’t believe anything Bucky says. Instead he helps Steve finish eating his breakfast and then starts on his own. There’s a knock at the door and Steve calls, “Come in.” 

Thor enters with a very sour-looking Loki in tow. “Good morning Captain! I have brought my brother to examine your hands.” 

“As I’ve told you before, I’m not a healer,” Loki grumbles. 

“Brother, your skills in magic are second to none. You are truly the best choice for healing a magical injury,” Thor says. Loki lets out a long-suffering sigh and begins peeling back the leaves. The revealed skin is pink and shiny but unbroken. Steve flexes his fingers experimentally and cringes. 

“Does that hurt?” Loki asks. 

“A little,” Steve admits. 

“I have healed you as best I can. Thor assures me that your body is able to repair itself quite quickly though so you should be fine by tomorrow. Now if there is nothing further required of me, brother, I would like to leave,” Loki says, glaring directly at Thor. 

“Thank-you for your help,” Steve says. Loki doesn’t reply. He simply exits the room when Thor waives him off. 

“The Man of Iron says that when you are ready you will all depart for the Quinjet,” Thor announces. 

Steve turns to Bucky, who’s just finished his breakfast.“Ready to go James? Sorry, Bucky. I have to get used to that again.” 

“It’s fine. Let’s go.” Bucky gets up from the bed and is glad to note that he’s considerably steadier on his feet than he was the previous night. 

“Thanks for everything Thor. I don’t know how we can ever repay you.” Steve reaches out to shake Thor’s hand but then seems to think better of it. Thor hesitates for a moment, clearly thinking he shouldn’t touch Steve’s hands, but then yanks him in by the upper arm for a rather manly slap on the back that nearly knocks him over. 

“Think nothing of it my friend. You have aided me in battle many times,” he replies. Steve and Bucky head downstairs to find Natasha and Tony finishing breakfast in front of the fire. 

Tony hops up from his chair eagerly. “So, good to see that our two resident old fogies have finally decided to join us. Let’s head out. JARVIS will need to take some scans and then I have a shitload of tests I want to run!” 

Natasha scowls. “Do you have to be so cheerful? Most of us aren’t awake yet.” 

“Come on!” Tony urges. He’s already heading for the door. Steve, Natasha, and Bucky say their goodbyes to Thor and then follow Tony out to the Quinjet. 

The flight back is rather uneventful. Tony and Natasha sit up front while Steve and Bucky strap themselves in at the back. Bucky tries to nap but he feels jittery and unfocused. Steve notices. 

“What’s it like being able to remember again?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” Bucky doesn’t quite have the words to properly describe what he’s just been through and he doubts that he ever will. 

Steve reaches out and gently rests a hand on his arm. Too quietly for the others to hear, he says, “Try.” 

Bucky fumbles to find the right words. “It’s like…like I was three people before. There was Bucky Barnes, the guy I was before the war, before I forgot; then the Soldier; and then James, somewhere between the two and just trying to figure out who I was. It’s like the tesseract took all of them and made them one person. It’s just…weird, I guess.”

“I probably can’t even begin to understand but I can try,” Steve says. 

“I’m still not who I was,” Bucky warns him. 

Steve looks pained. “James - Bucky, I never expected that you’d turn into the old you again. You’ve been through too much to not come out changed. I just wanted you to have your memories back so you don’t feel so lost.” 

“My head’s a mess. I didn’t really sleep last night. It’s like there’s too many things in my brain now. I keep remembering random stuff,” Bucky admits.

“Such as?” Steve questions.

“I remember that your mom’s name was Sara. I remember that you used to wear newspapers in your shoes because she was worried that your feet would get damp and you’d get sick. We lived in an apartment in Brooklyn and I worked down at the docks until the war happened. Once, on your birthday, I bought you a set of paints and you acted like I’d hung the moon. Need I go on?” 

Steve chuckles. “You know how expensive paints were back then. Most of the time we could barely afford to eat. You should try to rest. I can wake you up when we get back to the tower.”

“Okay,” Bucky agrees. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. He doesn’t fully fall asleep but does manage a light doze until he feels Steve shaking his shoulder.

“We’re here.” Bucky unstraps himself from his seat and groggily follows the team out onto the roof. He’s not fully aware of his surroundings until Steve suddenly jerks him aside and throws up his shield. 

A bullet whizzes through the air and hits it with a loud clang.


	23. Chapter 23

Bucky realizes that the tower is under attack and for a split second he freezes. It’s been so long since he’s had to fight that he’s not entirely sure of what to do. “Down!” Steve shouts. Bucky ends up crouched on the roof with Steve covering both of them with his shield. “We need to get inside,” he calls to the others. 

“No! The building could be compromised!” Tony argues. He’s still got the red and gold suitcase with him. He drops it down on the ground, presses something with his foot, and the suitcase immediately expands outwards to begin covering him with armor. 

Natasha’s taken refuge underneath the Quinjet. She waves towards Steve and he grabs Bucky by the arm. “On the count of three we’re going to Nat. One…two…three!” The two of them race towards the Quinjet, using Steve’s shield to hold off the hail of bullets coming their way and by some miracle neither of them are hit. 

Natasha’s already pulled a gun and several of her stingers. It makes Bucky wish that he had something to fight with. The Soldier’s training isn’t entirely lost to him but he knows that he’s always felt more comfortable with a weapon in hand. He relays this info to Natasha and she reaches into her boot and pulls out a knife. “That okay?” 

“It’ll do,” Bucky says. Tony’s already in flight, firing repulsor beams off in the direction of the nearest building. Around them a deluge of bullets ping off the sides of the Quinjet, pinning them to the spot. 

“Snipers,” Steve growls. There’s a loud crash as all of the glass in the penthouse shatters and the sound of heavy boots thunder down. Bucky peeks out from under the Quinjet to see about two dozen men in tactical gear. 

“Great,” Natasha sighs, as if the men are a minor inconvenience instead of a threat. “Looks like we’re going to have to fight our way out of this one. Tony can take care of the snipers while we deal with these idiots.” 

“You and I will. Bucky, stay here,” Steve instructs. 

Natasha frowns. “Steve, there’s no choice. We’re outnumbered!” 

There’s no time to argue and Steve realizes that she’s right. He grabs Bucky’s hand quickly and says, “I’m sorry Bucky. I promise I won’t let them take you from me.” Then he’s gone, heading out from under the Quinjet to face the group of men that’s assembled on the roof. 

Natasha motions to Bucky. “Come on.” 

The two of them follow Steve out into the open. The ringleader, a man wearing a black mask painted to look like a skull and a chest plate with a giant white x on the front, steps forward. “Nice to see you again Captain. We’ve come to take back what belongs to us.” 

“Oh no,” Bucky whispers. He recognizes that voice. Cold fear floods through him and he involuntarily takes a step back. 

“Rumlow.” Steve greets him calmly. 

“I don’t go by that no more. Name’s Crossbones now. Give us the Asset and maybe we’ll let your girlfriend live,” Rumlow mocks him. 

“I don’t think so,” Steve snarls.

Rumlow lets out a humourless chuckle. “Longing.”

“No,” Bucky whimpers. Steve rushes at Rumlow and manages to nail him with the shield right in the chest. From there the fight is on and the three of them have no choice but to defend themselves. Bucky works solely on muscle memory. He manages to hold his own for awhile but he’s quickly outnumbered. 

He finds himself pinned against a wall by three of Hydra’s goons, facing a grinning Rumlow who’s managed to slip away from the melee. He’s taken his helmet off and Bucky gets a good look at the thick mottled scars crisscrossing his face, deforming an ear, and drawing down one eye . “Good morning Soldier.” 

“That’s not my name!” Bucky shouts. 

Rumlow rolls his eyes. “Ah, the core personality is revealed. Too bad but we can fix that. Longing.” Bucky struggles and manages to get one hand free but Rumlow pulls a stun gun from his belt and jams it into Bucky’s neck. The resulting shock is enough to bring him to his knees, allowing the henchmen to subdue him once more. 

“Rusted…furnace…daybreak…seventeen…benign…nine…homecoming…one…freight car…” Bucky remains frozen in place. He’s expecting the worst to happen but is surprised when he manages to remain clear headed. The trigger words have no effect. Rumlow grabs him by the collar and yanks him to his feet. “Soldier, are you ready to comply?” 

Bucky remains silent. Rumlow’s not in control. That means he can still fight his way out and get back to Steve. “I said, are you ready to comply?” Rumlow snarls. He gives Bucky a violent shake. “Answer me!” 

“No!” Bucky decks him across the face with his metal hand. Surprised, Rumlow lands flat on his backside, giving Bucky enough time to take out the other men nearby. 

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t it work?” Rumlow says as he gets to his feet. 

“Because they fixed me,” Bucky answers. 

Rumlow’s dropped his stun gun but he pulls a knife and lunges at Bucky. He dodges the blade, feints as though he’s going to punch Rumlow in the jaw, and then hits him in the stomach, winding him. Rumlow straightens up, gasping, but before he can make another a move he’s hit by a repulsor blast and the momentum carries him over the side of the tower to fall to the street below. “Hey assholes! Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to show up at someone’s house uninvited?” Tony whoops from the air. 

“Thanks,” Bucky says. Tony gives him a mocking salute and then disappears. Bucky decides he’s not going to hide. He’s going to take down as many people as possible. He spots Steve across the rooftop, fighting two men at once with ease. They both hit the rooftop. One stays down, knocked unconscious, but the other is still moving, drawing a gun. “Steve, behind you!” Bucky screams but it’s too late. 

Steve turns around just in time to get shot in the neck. He collapses hard onto the ground and lays still and unmoving. Pure unadulterated rage boils up inside of Bucky and spills over, blinding him to anything but his hatred at Hydra for always taking everything from him. He can’t lose Steve, not after they just found each other again. With an animalistic growl he launches himself into the fight. 

Bucky’s Winter Soldier instincts take over and suddenly he feels no fear. This is another mission to complete, another target that he needs to take out. He’s not aware of anything other than channeling his anger into punching and slashing as many people as he can get his hands on but eventually he’s dimly aware of someone calling his name. 

“James! James, stop!” It’s Natasha and she sounds worried. Bucky comes back to himself in the middle of what looks like a bloodbath. The rooftop is littered with bodies; some stabbed, some with their necks broken at odd angles, a few that look like they’ve been disemboweled, and one or two with limbs cut off. Bucky stands rooted to the spot and gazes at the scene in horror. Natasha suddenly appears in his field of vision. “It’s okay, you can stop now,” she tells him. She holds her hands out in front of her to show she means no harm. 

Bucky looks down at his own hands. He’s still clutching Natasha’s knife and he’s covered in blood. He sucks in a shaky breath. “No,” he moans. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Natasha keeps repeating. She takes him by the arm and tugs gently, leading him back towards the penthouse. “Just come with me.”

“Steve?” Bucky says in a tiny voice. 

“He’s fine. We took him to the med bay. I’m gonna take you there so you can get checked out.” She’s talking slowly as if trying to soothe a frightened child. 

Bucky’s barely aware of his surroundings but he can hear Tony talking to JARVIS in the background. “J, I need a status report. How’s the rest of the building looking?” 

“If you are asking about the staff, they are all in perfect health sir. I ran the siege program and kept them from danger,” JARVIS answers. 

“Good. How about Barton and Banner? Please tell me that Banner didn’t turn green.” 

“Agent Barton is not presently in the building but I regret to inform you that the labs in the lower levels have sustained significant damage. Dr. Banner has returned to his human form but there are several Hydra casualties. Shall I call hazmat, sir?” JARVIS says. 

“Yeah, call them and then get maintenance to start on the damage. Also, call Pepper and tell her that we might need to put out a press release in the near future. I don’t think the pile of dead bodies on the roof is going to do us any favors,” Tony tells the AI.

Bucky keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the floor as he lets Natasha propel him along. The sea of broken glass gives way to the hallways of the tower but he pays no attention, simply allowing her to steer him as she sees fit. When they arrive in the med bay she pushes him down on a bed across from Steve. “Just stay there for a moment.” 

Bucky reluctantly submits to the exam forced on him by the medical staff. It turns out that he’s physically fine but emotionally he’s in a state of shock. They offer to call Dr. Sullivan for him but he declines, only wanting to get their questioning over with so he can be with Steve. He insists on dragging a chair over to Steve’s bedside and sitting next to him. 

“He’s going to be fine. The bullet just grazed his neck but they insisted on giving him pain meds. He’ll stay here for observation and rest for a bit,” Natasha says. 

Bucky nods. “I’ll stay here.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Like that? You’re covered in blood, James. At least change your clothes.” 

“I’m staying here,” Bucky insists.

Natasha rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. “I’ll bring you some clothes.” Bucky doesn’t move from his position next to Steve, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. He waits until Natasha returns with a t-shirt and sweatpants for him and presses them on him along with a plastic bag for his bloody clothes. “The bathroom’s through there,” she says, pointing to a door across the room.

Bucky locks the bathroom door and catches sight of himself in the mirror. He looks dirty, unkempt, hair rumpled and jaw unshaven with dark circles under his eyes and blood caked down his front. He peels himself out his clothes and stuffs them into the plastic bag. His shoes are probably a lost cause so he adds them too, then steps into the shower and turns on the water as hot as he can stand. 

The blood runs off of him in a reddish brown river so he tries not to look. After he’s clean, Bucky dresses himself in the clean clothes, ties up the plastic bag, and takes it with him to his chair at Steve’s bedside. He stuffs the bag under the chair, resuming his vigil. 

It takes nearly two hours for Steve to finally wake. The minute he catches sight of Bucky he struggles to sit upright in bed. “Bucky! Are you all right? You’re not hurt, are you?” 

“I’m fine, Stevie,” Bucky says. 

Steve scrubs a hand over his face and then touches the dressing on his neck. “What happened? What the hell did they do to me?” 

“You were shot in the neck. They gave you some pain medication so you could rest,” Bucky explains. 

“They shouldn’t have. I can handle a little pain,” Steve says defiantly. Bucky doesn’t respond. He remembers that normally he’d be annoyed with Steve for refusing proper medical care but he just feels numb at the moment. He drops his gaze to the floor and stares at his bare feet. Steve notices. “Where are your shoes?” .

“They were bloody,” Bucky says in a quavering voice. 

Steve’s looking way more alert now, concern etched across his face. “What happened?” 

“I…I…” Bucky stammers but he can’t find the words. Steve reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezing it gently. 

“Whatever happened, it’s going to be okay. I promise,” he soothes. 

Bucky shakes his head. He doesn’t want to cry, not here where there are people other than Steve who might see his weakness. He blinks rapidly and takes a deep breath, fighting to get control of himself. “I killed them.”

Steve squeezes his hand again. “Killed who?” 

“Rumlow used the trigger words. I thought they didn’t work but then they shot you and I lost control and I didn’t know what I did until Natasha told me to stop. They were dead and there was blood everywhere!” Bucky babbles hysterically. 

“Come here.” Steve tugs Bucky out of his chair and across to the bed. He goes willingly and lets himself be seated next to his friend. Steve wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

“Bucky, they attacked us. You were defending yourself.”

“I never wanted to kill anyone else. I should have stayed hidden like you asked me to,” Bucky whimpers. 

“None of this is your fault. Hydra’s responsible and they got what they deserved,” Steve insists. 

“But what if…what if something went wrong with the tesseract? I was fighting but not killing until after Rumlow used the trigger words. Then I got violent and I killed them all.”

“Did you feel like Rumlow had any control over you?” Steve asks. 

Bucky frowns. “He asked me if I was ready to comply and I said no.” 

“The trigger words were implanted to control you instantly, right? If you could still think for yourself after he used them I’d say you’re free of them,” Steve points out.

Bucky feels a shudder go through his body. “If that’s true then it’s really my fault that all those people are dead. I know they were Hydra but I never wanted to kill anyone again. I just wanted a quiet life with you.” It’s dangerously close to admitting how he feels for Steve but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. He’s too wrung out emotionally. 

“Bucky, stop blaming yourself. Hydra came into our home and tried to abduct you so they weren’t exactly innocent. Have you had any rest at all?” 

“No,” Bucky whispers. 

“You should lie down for a bit,” Steve tells him. Bucky shakes his head but Steve’s not to be deterred. He lies down on the bed and moves over to make enough room for the both of them. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, I promise.” 

“Okay,” Bucky agrees. He allows himself to be tugged down onto the mattress and positioned with his head resting on Steve’s chest. He feels warm and comforted, listening to the steady hypnotic beat of his friend’s heart and finally he feels like he’ll be okay. Bucky closes his eyes and eventually he manages to drift off to sleep.

When he wakes again he can hear someone talking to Steve. “…tore them apart with his bare hands! It was kind of impressive,” Tony’s voice floats nearby. 

“Don’t mention that to him. He’s not exactly proud of it,” Steve says. 

Bucky blinks sleepily. His eyes feel like sandpaper. “Mention what?” 

“Your knife skills, Sleeping Beauty. Seriously, if you ever want a space on the team it’s yours. We could use someone like you,” Tony declares. 

Bucky groans and sits up. “I want to go back to our floor.” 

“Okay. I’ve been cleared so we can go,” Steve says.

“You’re not coming down for the interrogation?” Tony asks, looking somewhat surprised. 

Steve gives him a look that clearly says he should keep quiet and it instantly alarms Bucky. “What interrogation?” He can feel anxiety starting to rise up inside of himself again but he tries to keep his voice steady and calm sounding. 

“Rumlow’s in SHIELD’s custody downstairs. He’s not going anywhere any time soon so if you wanted to wait until tomorrow, Cap, that’s perfectly fine,” Tony clarifies.

“Rumlow’s alive?” Bucky snaps. “But I saw him fall off the roof!” 

Tony winces and he won’t look Bucky in the eye. “I, uh, sort of saved him.” 

Bucky’s up and around the side of the bed before he knows what he’s doing, grabbing Tony by the front of his shirt and yanking him out of his chair. “You did what?” he shrieks. 

Steve jumps up from the bed and yanks on his arm. “Woah, woah, Bucky put him down!” Bucky drops Tony back in the chair. He allows Steve to guide him back to sitting on the bed. 

Tony’s looking distinctly angry now. “Do you think Hydra just brought everyone here to be slaughtered by you? There’s always more of them and guaranteed they have a base somewhere! I wouldn’t have saved the bastard if we didn’t need the intel!” 

Steve’s got a hand clamped on Bucky’s wrist, holding it tightly to prevent him from getting up again. “I know you don’t like it but Tony’s right. We need to find out where they’ve been hiding and take down the base. They have equipment we need to get our hands on.” 

Bucky’s instantly suspicious. “What sort of equipment?” 

“We need to destroy the chair,” Steve answers. 

Bucky feels all of the blood drain from his face. “They still have it?” 

“There’s a possibility that they do. Tony and I talked about it once before when he was trying to find a way to get your memories back because he thought we might be able to reverse engineer it somehow. We weren’t able to get enough intel to find their base though so we abandoned that idea early on.” 

“You didn’t tell me,” Bucky accuses. 

Steve sighs and he flashes those damned puppy dog eyes again. “I know and I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to get your hopes and then be disappointed.” 

“Let’s do the interrogation tonight. We need to find them so they can’t hurt anyone else,” Bucky declares.

Tony glares at him. “We? You’re not sitting in on this one.” 

“I don’t want to question him, I just want to watch,” Bucky says. 

Tony shoots a questioning look at Steve, who just nods tiredly at him. “Let him watch.” 

“Fine,” Tony sighs. “See you downstairs in ten.” 

“Let’s get you some shoes, then we’ll go down,” Steve says to Bucky.


	24. Chapter 24

Bucky’s never been down to the tower’s cells before. He didn’t even know they existed but Steve explains to him that Tony had storage space converted after they started rebuilding SHEILD. They climb aboard an old freight elevator and JARVIS takes them down into an unfinished concrete corridor with industrial lighting. Steve leads him to a door at the end of the hall and puts his hand on the scanner. 

“Access granted. Welcome Captain Rogers,” a robotic female voice says. 

The door slides open and they enter into a larger room with several chairs and a window that looks into a room that’s obviously a cell. The only furnishings in it are a bed that’s bolted to the wall, a toilet, and a sink. Rumlow’s sitting on the bed. His hands are cuffed and he’s wearing leg irons. “You can watch from here. The glass is two-way so he won’t even know you’re here,” Steve says. 

Bucky takes a seat in one of the chairs and tries not to stare at the man who was once his captor. “Are you going in?” 

“Yeah. I’m waiting for Tony to get here. It’ll just be the two of us because Nat’s with Bruce right now,” Steve says. 

Bucky’s lips turn up in a tiny smile. “Is there some sort of history there? When Thor brought him back she was pretty pissed.” 

Steve grins at him. “Yeah, not a particularly long history but there is one. I’m kind of secretly hoping they get back together because they’re good for each other.” 

The door slides open again and Tony enters the room. “Ready Cap?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says. He turns to Bucky one last time and tells him, “If you want to leave before we’re done just ask JARVIS and he’ll let you out.” The two of them exit the room and head next door to Rumlow’s cell. 

Bucky watches as Rumlow grins maniacally at Steve. “I was wondering when you’d show up Cap. Thought you might be a bit preoccupied with your buddy Barnes.” 

Steve doesn’t rise to the bait, remaining stone-faced and standing at parade rest. Tony, however, decides to go for the direct approach. “So, are you gonna tell us where your little band of crazies has been hiding out or do you want me threaten you?” 

“Is that supposed to get me to talk? You don’t scare me Stark. Take away that armor and what are you?” Rumlow jeers. 

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist,” Tony rattles off in a bored tone of voice. 

“You always were an arrogant prick,” Rumlow spits. 

Tony rolls his eyes. “I could leave you down here, you know. JARVIS has an automatic monitoring and maintenance system that’ll make sure you never see anyone but my robots. How does that sound?” 

Rumlow isn’t fazed. “So my reward for giving you what you want is human interaction? I think I’m going to pass.” 

Tony shrugs. “Suit yourself. It’s not exactly a five star hotel but you’ll live.” 

Rumlow turns his attention to Steve. “What’s the matter Cap? Cat got your tongue?” 

“Tell us where the base is,” Steve says. 

Rumlow just grins at him. “Now what would be the fun in that?” 

Steve lunges forward and grabs Rumlow by the throat with one hand, lifting him clear of the bed and leaving his legs to dangle in the air. “I don’t have time to play games. You can tell us where the base is or you can fucking die. Your choice,” he seethes. Rumlow opens his mouth but only lets out a sick gurgle. His limbs flail, his body convulses, and his eyes roll back in his head as his face turns bright red. 

“Steve, put him down!” Tony cries.

Steve lets go, letting Rumlow drop to the mattress with a loud whump. He coughs and gasps, falling sideways. “You have five minutes to start talking,” Steve bellows. 

“Cap, maybe you should-” Tony starts to say but quails when Steve glares at him. 

In his seat behind the two-way glass Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He can count the times he’s seen Steve absolutely livid on one hand and it’s never ended well for anyone. Still, he doesn’t feel the urge to intervene. Rumlow’s done much worse to him when was the Soldier. 

Rumlow finally manages to catch his breath but his voice comes out hoarse. “There’s an abandoned warehouse out in Queens, owned by a company called Hardy Asset Management.” 

“Hardy - anagram for Hydra. Nice,” Tony comments.

“You were planning to take Bucky there?” Steve asks. 

Rumlow grins maniacally at both of them. “That was our mission. Recover the Asset, put his brain back in the blender, then return Hydra to its former glory.” 

“With who in charge?” Tony asks. 

“Me,” Rumlow answers proudly. 

Tony lets out a snort of laughter. “You? You wouldn’t know how to run a hot dog stand, let alone a secret evil organization.” 

“We broke into your tower,” Rumlow points out. 

“And I’ve now tightened security so your hired goons can never get in again. Plus there’s the whole having you in a cell instead of out there leading them,” Tony says glibly. 

Rumlow just shakes his head and lets out a snicker. “There’ll be somebody else. Hydra didn’t die with Pierce and it won’t with me either.”

Steve is still looking furious, as if he’d like nothing more than tear Rumlow limb from limb. “Let’s get one thing straight here: I don’t care how many of you are out there or who’s leading you but I’m going to find every last one of you and tear you limb from limb.” 

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place,” Rumlow quotes.

“Not your concern anymore. When we’re done keeping you here there’s a nice prison cell for you on an island we like to call The Raft. It’s a lot less cozy than this place, let me tell you,” Tony says. 

“We got what we wanted. Let’s go.” Steve opens the door and steps out, motioning for Tony to follow him.

“Tell your friend Barnes I say hi.” Rumlow shoots a nasty smirk in their direction but neither of them notice. 

Steve and Tony are briefly out of sight and then they return to the observation room. Steve’s face is flushed and there’s an angry glint in his eyes while Tony seems to be unbothered. “Well that explains why it took Hydra so long to catch up with us. They’ve got that idiot running the show,” Tony remarks. 

Steve rounds on him, looking annoyed. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“At least I didn’t let that rat faced bastard piss me off,” Tony says boldly. 

Bucky decides to defuse the situation before it devolves into an argument between the two of them. They’ve both had an insanely long day and it’s most likely that Tony hasn’t slept, running on his usual combination of coffee and manic energy while pushing himself to the limit. “Why don’t guys give it a rest for the night and then start planning tomorrow? It’s not like Rumlow’s going anywhere and everyone else is dead.” 

Steve briefly closes his eyes and heaves out a sigh. “You’re right. JARVIS will keep an eye on building security tonight. We start work on the plan for the Hydra base first thing tomorrow though. I don’t want to waste any time.” 

“Sure thing Cap. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tony says. He lets himself out, leaving Steve and Bucky alone in the room. 

Bucky turns back to the window and looks at Rumlow sitting on the bed. He’s staring straight ahead and it makes Bucky feel uneasy, as though he’s the one being watched. He’s suddenly overcome with an intense feeling of anger. “I wish he’d died,” Bucky growls. 

“Bucky -” Steve starts to say but he pauses and takes a step back when Bucky gives him an angry look. 

“You should have let the bastard choke to death.” Bucky’s unconsciously clenching and unclenching both of his fists and the metal plates in his arm shift noisily. “He stood there and watched as they fried my brain. When Pierce wasn’t around Rumlow was in charge and sometimes he was fucking worse to deal with. Rotting in a cell for the rest of his life is too good for him!” 

“I know, I know,” Steve comforts him. He takes Bucky by the arms and forcibly turns him away from the viewing window. “We can’t kill him though. SHIELD would find out and they don’t take too kindly to summary executions.”

“Fuck them! I don’t care!” Bucky snaps.

Steve opens the door and tugs him out. “Don’t look at him anymore. You’re free now and you can live your life however you want.” 

Bucky sags against the nearest wall. “I’ll never be free,” he moans. “The tesseract put everything back. ****Everything.**** I can remember every time they tortured me in front of him and that sick fuck just let them do it! What kind of person sees that happening to another human being and doesn’t do anything to stop it?” 

Steve steps into Bucky’s personal space and gently takes hold of his shoulders. For a moment he thinks about closing the gap, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Steve’s but he shoves it aside in favour of focusing on what Steve is telling him. “A monster, that’s who. No normal person can watch that and not be affected.” 

“I wish I could walk away from that part of my past,” Bucky says. 

“You can walk away from that cell knowing he’ll never hurt you again. He’ll never be in a position of power over you or anyone else ever again. He’s going to the most secure prison facility in the world and he’ll live out the rest of his days alone with someone controlling his every move while you have your freedom back.”

The rage drains out of Bucky slowly and he slumps forward into Steve’s arms. “I want…I want my own bed,” he mumbles against his friend’s shoulder. 

“Me too. Let’s go upstairs.” The two of them take the elevator back to their floor. When they arrive, Bucky showers, dresses himself in a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt, then flops on his bed and lays there staring up at the ceiling. From nearby he can hear the shower start up again as Steve takes his turn.

He wonders why it can’t be easy, why his feelings for Steve couldn’t just have evaporated when the tesseract put all of his memories back inside of him and re-arranged his brain. He’s fast realizing that he’s been carrying a torch for a long time and that it’s not going away any time soon. His feelings go back as far as he can remember. 

_They’re sixteen and Steve’s still small, sickly, and pale. He’s got the flu again and he’s been in bed for the last two days with both his ma and Bucky taking shifts to care for him. It’s Bucky’s turn now. He wipes Steve’s fevered face with a cool cloth. “You still feelin’ pretty rough?”_

_“Yeah,” Steve croaks. “’m so hot.”_

_Bucky extricates one of Steve’s bird boned arms from beneath the blanket and wipes it gently before doing the same with the other. He sets the cloth down on the nightstand and picks up a glass of water. “Drink this. Your ma said you needed more fluids.”_

_Steve allows Bucky to prop him up in a sitting position long enough to down half the glass. Then he drops back to the mattress and lets out a moan. “Feels like I’m in an oven.”_

_Bucky reaches over and yanks the blanket off, exposing Steve’s delicate form, clad only in a pair of shorts. “That better?”_

_“Yeah,” Steve whispers. He closes his eyes and his head drops back on the pillow. Bucky listens to his tiny chest rise and fall, straining his ears for the telltale wheeze of asthma but thankfully hearing none. He’s asleep within minutes._

_Bucky watches him intently. Even flushed and sweating with a fever, Steve is beautiful. He’s all sharp angles and slender limbs and Bucky finds himself wanting to know every inch of that body intimately. He’s been having these thoughts for years now and he’s tried everything to make them go away but no amount of begging God with prayers or chasing dames or drinking to forget will do it. He loves Steve Rogers and nothing can change that._

_It’s too dangerous to say anything though. Bucky knows what happens to queers and it’s not pretty. He’s one of the few people Steve has in the world and he’s not going to wind up in prison or the loony bin where he can’t keep an eye on his best friend. Steve’s propensity for getting himself into trouble will spell his death if Bucky’s not there to defend him._

_Besides, Steve isn’t queer. Bucky’s sure that he likes dames but the problem is that none of them see him for who he is on the inside because they’re too quick to judge. Sometimes Bucky doesn’t feel that bad about it though. It means he gets to keep Steve all to himself. He’s beautiful, smart, funny, and feisty - a real firecracker if Bucky ever saw one. Some day Steve Rogers is going to be the death of Bucky Barnes but he doesn’t care. He’ll go wherever life with Steve takes him, no matter the cost._

There’s a knock on the door frame and then Steve enters. His hair is damp from the shower and he’s wearing blue plaid pajama pants with a plain black t-shirt. “You all right?” 

Bucky realizes that he’s been lying there ruminating for quite some time. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“Can I come in for a bit?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” Bucky gestures to the empty spot on the bed next to him. Steve flops down and stretches himself out with his legs crossed at the ankles. “How’s your neck?” 

“Painful but I’ve had worse. I’m lucky that guy was a lousy shot.” 

“And your hands?” Bucky inquires. 

Steve holds out both hands palms-up for him to see. The skin is still pink but it looks better than it did earlier in the morning. “They don’t hurt. The serum’s doing it’s job,” he says. 

They fall silent for a moment but then Bucky notices Steve’s expression. He looks like he wants to say something but isn’t really sure where to start. Bucky decides to put him out of his misery by getting straight to the point. “I know you want to ask me something so go ahead.” 

Steve turns his head and gives Bucky a soft smile. For a moment Bucky can see the conflicting thoughts warring in his eyes, as if he’s trying to decide which question is most important to ask first. What comes out is, “Do you remember how to dance now?” 

Bucky shrugs. “Haven’t given it any thought. I was kind of preoccupied with not being captured by Hydra.” 

“Fair point but you should try it and see if you still remember,” Steve says. 

Bucky grabs his tablet from where it’s sitting on the bedside table. “I guess now’s as good a time as any.” He brings up Youtube and starts searching for swing music, eventually settling on a Glen Miller playlist that begins with In the Mood. He gets up from the bed and for a few moments he simply sways back and forth, letting the catchy sound of the horns wash over him. 

“That all you got?” Steve teases.

“Just getting warmed up.” Bucky runs through a few basic steps and then stops, frowning. “This would be easier if I had a partner. Swing is meant for two people.” 

“You could ask Natasha,” Steve suggests innocently.

“I wouldn’t dare. She’d probably shoot me.” Bucky steps closer to the bed and holds out his hand. “Come on.” 

“Oh no, don’t look at me,” Steve insists. “You remember what happened the last time you tried to teach me, right?”

Bucky tries not laugh and fails. “You fell and split your lip open on the coffee table. I had to patch you up.” 

“Exactly. I am **not** dancing with you,” Steve says. 

“But that was before the serum. I’m sure you’re way more coordinated now,” Bucky argues. 

Steve rolls his eyes. “No.” 

Bucky puts on his most pathetic puppy dog eyes and pushes his lower lip out comically. “Pleeeaase,” he begs in a childish tone of voice. 

“Fine. The things I do for you,” Steve sighs. He pushes himself off the bed to stand in front of Bucky. “Lead on.”

Elated at having convinced his friend to give in, Bucky reaches out and guides Steve’s hand to his hip, then places a hand on his shoulder. He grasps Steve’s free hand and brings it up. “The steps aren’t too hard. Just follow my lead and try to read my body language.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Steve mutters. 

Bucky elects to ignore that. “I’m leading so I step with my left and you step with your right. Let’s try it; back and forth,” he says, demonstrating. The two of them manage to step back and forth for a few minutes without Steve stumbling or stepping on Bucky’s feet.

“Okay, this isn’t so bad,” Steve concedes.

“Let’s add to it. You can put in something called a rock step. Left, right, rock back.” Bucky demonstrates again and then urges Steve to follow through. Steve steps wrong on the rock step and crashes into him. “Woah, easy!” Bucky catches him around the waist. 

The two of them end up nose to nose, more than close enough that they could kiss. Bucky can feel Steve’s warm breath on his face, his hand a heavy weight on Bucky’s hip, and the bore of his sky blue eyes into stormy gray ones. Then Steve abruptly lets go. “Told you I can’t dance,” he mumbles, turning away but not before Bucky sees the blush on his cheeks.

Great. He’s made Steve uncomfortable. “I guess that was, uh, a bit ambitious after the day we’ve had but, um, at least this time you didn’t get hurt,” he sputters. 

Steve lets out a weak laugh. “Yeah, good thing.” He takes a few steps back, putting distance between them. “It’s, um, getting late. We should probably go to sleep because we’re meeting with Tony tomorrow.” 

“We? I’m included?” Bucky asks. 

“I’d like you to sit in on the mission planning. You’ve got inside information on how Hydra operates and that could be useful,” Steve says. He’s switched to his commanding Captain America voice now and it makes Bucky feel a bit bereft. He hates how Steve covers up his insecurities and awkwardness with the persona of the Captain. Bucky prefers him when he’s just Steve Rogers. 

He scrubs his toe across the carpet, too uncomfortable to look Steve in the eye. “Okay. I’ll, um, see you in the morning then.” 

Steve practically flees the room, tossing a quiet, “Goodnight,” over his shoulder as he leaves. Bucky shuts the door behind him. He punches his pillow angrily and then flops down on the bed. It takes him a long time to fall asleep because he feels too angry with himself to relax.


	25. Chapter 25

Tony holds the planning meeting in one of his many massive boardrooms. When Bucky walks in behind Steve he notes that Natasha and Clint are also present. Natasha gives him a friendly smile and gestures for him to sit next to her but Clint still seems a bit frosty. Bucky tries not to feel like it’s personal. Steve makes a beeline for Tony and the two of them start anxiously discussing something out of earshot. 

“Have you thought about what I said?” Natasha asks Bucky. 

“You say a lot of things,” he says cluelessly and she shakes her head at him. 

“You know what I mean.” She jerks her head in the direction of Steve. 

Bucky sighs. “He’s not interested. I screwed up last night.” He quietly fills Natasha in on the story of trying to teach Steve to dance and how it ended so awkwardly. 

Natasha grins at him and then starts to laugh. “You’re a special one, aren’t you?” she giggles. 

Across the table Clint is looking at them with triumph. “I knew it! I knew there was something there. Bruce owes me a hundred bucks now.” 

“Who owes who a hundred bucks?” Tony asks as he and Steve approach the table. He takes the seat beside Clint while Steve sits on the other side of Bucky. 

“Never mind,” Clint says airily. He’s got a mischievous look on his face though.

“Well, let’s get down to business, shall we? J, bring up the location of the Hydra base.” A holographic projection of a map appears in the middle of the table and Tony uses his hands to resize it, zooming in on the abandoned warehouse. “Based on what Rumlow gave us, JARVIS was able to track it down.” 

The building looks derelict and dirty with all of the windows boarded up and graffiti gracing nearly every available surface. The nearby empty parking lot is a strip of weedy crumbling asphalt surrounded by a rusty chain link fence. “Not up to Hydra’s usual standards,” Natasha comments. 

“Probably for two reasons. One; they need to lay low so they can go undetected and two; they’ve been cut off from every available source of revenue. JARVIS saw to that,” Tony says. 

Steve is frowning at the model. “We shouldn’t go into this thinking it’ll be easy though. Who knows what they’ve got set up in there.” 

“JARVIS has been scouting the area and from what I can see there’s no one going in or out to keep up the abandoned look.” Tony waves his hand and the screen changes to the schematics of the warehouse. “Everything up top looks perfectly normal but when you look below, this shouldn’t be here.” He pulls the holographic map down to the lowest floor of the warehouse and points to something that’s clearly underground. 

Clint cocks his head to the side and studies the map for a moment before asking, “What ****is**** that?” 

“Probably a secret underground lair,” Tony jokes. 

Steve turns to Bucky. “Do you remember anything about this place?” 

Bucky’s silent for a moment, thinking. “I was there,” he answers finally. “It’s more of a safe house than anything else now but at one point they kept the chair there before they moved to the bank vault. The entrance is across the street in another building.” 

Tony changes the holographic map to the surrounding streets. “Think hard, Barnes. Can you figure out which one it is?” 

Bucky squints at the rows of buildings on the map and then tentatively extends a finger to point at one. “This one. I remember it because of the round windows and the fire escape on the side. They remodeled it to look like an office building but it’s got an underground tunnel to the warehouse behind a hidden entrance downstairs.” 

Steve’s looking at him with a proud expression. “That’s great, Bucky.” 

“Good. Anything else we should know, Robocop?” Tony asks. 

“They’ll be armed,” Bucky says darkly, looking down at his hands. 

Tony zooms in even closer on the building Bucky pointed out and immediately gets JARVIS to pull footage from as many security cameras as possible. “I’d be more surprised if they weren’t. Now we’ve already lost the element of surprise since Rumlow and his little raiding party didn’t return but I’m sure we can work something out. Any ideas, Cap?” 

Steve immediately straightens in his chair and goes into military strategy mode. It’s surprisingly familiar to Bucky, reminding him of the planning sessions Steve would have with the Howling Commandos back in the war. His mind ends up wandering off a little as he’s caught up in reminiscence, listening but not entirely taking in Steve’s voice as he decides who will hold what position and how they’ll go about raiding the Hydra base.

_“Bucky, you know what to do,” Steve says after he’s done directing the rest of the group._

_“Yep. Stay safe punk,” Bucky says. He gives his friend a mock salute._

_Steve just groans. “Jerk.” He heads off with the other men while Bucky shoulders his rifle and tries to find a decent vantage point. He’s an excellent shot and with his sniper training he should be able to pick off a few of Hydra’s men before they can do any damage._

_He hopes Steve won’t do anything stupid. Bucky doesn’t have to worry about him as much now that he’s got a body to match his stubbornly righteous attitude but he’s not the invincible hero the public have been made to believe he is. Somewhere under all that muscle is Steve Rogers and he’s still human. He still bleeds._

_Bucky doesn’t know what he’ll do if anything happens to Steve. He thinks he’d rather die on the spot than have to go through the war without his other half. He might have to hide how he feels for the rest of his life but, if he can watch Steve survive and come out unscathed enough to build a life afterwards, it’ll be enough._ __

Bucky comes back to himself and he’s dimly aware of Steve gripping his arm. “Bucky, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just kind of got lost there for a minute,” Bucky says quietly. He notices that everyone else is already heading for the door, leaving him and Steve still sitting at the table. 

“The raid’s tomorrow morning. Come on, let’s go back to our floor.” Steve gets up and beckons for him to follow. 

Bucky joins him in the elevator but still feels that his mind is elsewhere. He wonders if Steve will ever find someone to settle down with. He and Peggy were perfect for each other, easily making a very attractive couple who could have set up the perfect family life with a little house, a white picket fence, and several children. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in the present who catches his eye but Bucky supposes it’s only a matter of time. He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize the elevator’s reached their floor until Steve tugs on his arm. 

“Bucky, are you sure you’re okay? You keep spacing out on me,” Steve says worriedly. 

“Just…” Bucky scrambles to find an explanation that will cover up how he’s feeling but not cause any worry. “Too many thoughts in my brain. Too much to remember,” he settles on. 

He knows he’s said the right thing when Steve gives him a sympathetic look. “I bet. Getting everything back at once is probably pretty confusing for you.” 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bucky mumbles before following him into the living room.

Steve turns on the tv and pulls out his sketchbook, flopping down casually on the couch and looking for a pencil to draw with. Bucky wonders how he can be so relaxed the day before he’s about to risk his life to attack Hydra. He sits down gingerly on the other end of the couch and tries to pay attention to the movie that Steve’s turned on. “What are we watching?” he asks. 

“Shrek,” Steve says absently. His pencil scratches across the page, turning lines and shadows into something that will no doubt end up looking as good as any photograph.

Bucky bounces his leg impatiently for a few moments and then gets up again. He fetches his tablet and brings it back to the living room. Maybe it will help. On screen a bright green ogre is attempting to chase mythological creatures from his swamp. Bucky turns on his tablet, tries reading an article on one of his favourite news sites, and finds himself unable to take any of it in. He heaves out a sigh. 

Steve looks up. “What is it?” 

“I can’t concentrate on anything,” Bucky groans. 

“Come here.” Steve motions for him to move closer and Bucky obliges. He manhandles Bucky into position so that he’s lying down with his head on Steve’s lap. “Rest,” he commands. 

Bucky nods and closes his eyes. He feels one of Steve’s hands resting on his chest and the weight is comforting, anchoring him down so that he doesn’t float away like an errant balloon. He falls asleep and doesn’t wake until nearly an hour later, still in the same position. Steve is now watching the Wizard of Oz. He’s slouched back into the couch with one hand still on Bucky’s chest and the other splayed out along the back of the couch. 

“I remember that one,” he mumbles drowsily. 

“It was one of the few times we were able to scrape up enough money to go to the theatre,” Steve replies. 

Bucky pushes himself up into a sitting position and rubs the back of his neck. Sleeping with his head on someone’s leg isn’t the most comfortable but he’s definitely been in worse situations. “I liked everything except the munchkins.” 

Steve laughs. “I forgot about that. You thought they were annoying.” He pauses the movie and then heads into the kitchen. “I’m hungry and I have the weirdest craving for eggs. What do you say we make some omelets?” 

“Sounds good,” Bucky answers.

The two of them have dinner in companionable silence and then finish watching their movie. Bucky feels calmer now but he’s still got a niggling worry in the back of his mind. He waits until Steve heads to his bedroom for the night and then takes the elevator up to the roof, where he sits watching the sunset. He wonders if he should tell Steve about his feelings before he leaves for the mission and then dismisses it. Bucky knows he’s not that brave. 

_“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this.”_

_“This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war!”_

_“I know it’s a war. You don’t have to tell me.”_

_“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.”_

_“What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?”_

_“Why not?”_

_“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky.”_

_“Don’t…”_

_“Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”_

_“Right, cause you got nothing to prove.”_ __

In that moment Bucky would have given everything to make sure that Steve didn’t do anything stupid, that he would remain at home where he couldn’t be touched by the horrors of war. In true Steve fashion though, he’d persevered until he’d found someone willing to give him a chance. Without that Bucky wouldn’t be sitting on the roof of one of the most expensive buildings in New York right now, seventy-some years into the future where everything has changed. 

He wants Steve to stay safe. He wants Hydra to die a slow and torturous death. He wants a life without having to worry about what’s going to happen next. Behind him, Bucky hears the elevator doors open and footsteps sound behind him. He doesn’t turn around. 

“This a private party or can I join you?” Steve asks as he plops down next to Bucky. 

Bucky doesn’t meet his his gaze. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.” 

“JARVIS told me you were up here brooding about something.” 

Bucky scowls. “I’m not brooding, I’m thinking.” 

“Wanna tell me what it’s about?” Steve asks. 

Bucky shrugs. “Dunno. I’m just feeling really mixed up inside right now. I couldn’t tell you if I tried.”

Steve reaches out and gently grasps his shoulder. “Try.” 

Bucky feels his face crumple and it takes everything he has not to start crying all of a sudden. “I thought having my memories back would fix me somehow. I didn’t think I’d forget being the Soldier but I thought I’d be more like the old me.” 

“You don’t need fixing,” Steve reassures him. 

Bucky shakes his head. “Neither did you but you still let them pump you full of serum.” 

“It’s not the same,” Steve argues. “I was a scrawny, sickly kid from Brooklyn who wanted a chance to prove himself. It was the only way in. You’ve never needed anything like that. There’s never been anything wrong with you and there never will be.” 

The vehemence of his tone shocks Bucky and he decides to try to make Steve see reason. “I’m not who you think I am. You’ve got me up on a pedestal Stevie. I’m just a poor kid from Brooklyn, same as you are. That museum exhibit made me look like some kind of hero but none of it’s true. You don’t know half of the things I did as the Soldier. Brutal, gruesome things that hurt so many people and I was him for way longer than I’ve been Bucky.”

Not one to back down, Steve says firmly, “No. You’re Bucky Barnes and you **are** a hero, to me if not to anyone else. You were and still are my best friend. You always looked out for me and you took me in so I wouldn’t be alone. You defended me from bullies and most of the time you were my only friend, the only person who cared that I existed, especially after my ma died. You enlisted rather than wait to be drafted. You fought for our country and you didn’t go home when you had the chance. You followed me even though you knew it could cost you your life and in the end it was so much worse. You’ve given up so much. Don’t ever say you’re not a hero.” 

Bucky turns his face away because he doesn’t want Steve to see the moisture leaking from his eyes. “You’ll have to believe for that both of us because I can’t,” he says in a near-whisper. 

Steve reaches out and wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, drawing him in for a hug. “You deserve good things, Bucky. If I could give you back everything you lost I would.” He takes Bucky’s hand and pulls on it gently. “Let’s go to bed.” 

Bucky raises an eyebrow at him and chuckles. “You should probably buy me dinner before we get to that.” 

Steve turns bright red and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “I meant to sleep,” he says hastily. 

The two of them board the elevator and go back to their floor where they end up in Steve’s bedroom, curled up on their sides facing each other. The storm brewing inside of Bucky has quieted enough that he knows he can sleep now. He closes his eyes and is out like a light.


	26. Chapter 26

Bucky fidgets nervously as he sits in Amy’s office. Steve left early for the mission and he hasn’t heard any news since then. He knows that he’s too preoccupied to really pay attention to the session he’s currently in but he decided that keeping up a normal routine would help to take his mind off it. “I’m sure Captain Rogers is going to be just fine,” Amy assures him. 

For the umpteenth time Bucky shifts in his chair. “You don’t know Steve the way I do. He takes risks. He does stupid things that almost get him killed, even when he doesn’t have to, and it’s been that way since we were kids. I can’t stop worrying.” 

Amy rests her notebook in her lap and taps her pen on it thoughtfully. “When you were the Winter Soldier you were considered one of Hydra’s elite, right?” 

“I was their number one weapon,” Bucky answers. 

“Captain Rogers was fully capable of fighting you. If he can survive that I’m sure he can take on a base of non-elite Hydra operatives.” 

Bucky scowls at her and scoffs, “You don’t know much about Hydra, do you? They always have a contingency plan, something to keep them from being fully wiped out so they can start over again and terrorize us some more. And the only reason why Steve survived is because I remembered enough to know that I shouldn’t let him die. If I hadn’t pulled him out of the Potomac he would have drowned.” 

“You were a formidable opponent. Are the people at the base going to be the same caliber?” Amy presses. 

Bucky frowns. “No, they’ve always done best when some bigshot is pulling the strings from above. Pierce was there to do the long term planning but he’s dead now. They were probably dumb enough to bring the best men they had left so the base will only have lower level grunts and whatever other staff they’ve managed to save.” 

“When you think of it that way, are you still worried?” Amy asks. 

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “I’ll always worry. I’ve worried about Steve since we were kids and I’m sure not gonna stop now.”

Amy smiles at him. “Have you told him how you feel about him?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I…I’m not…not brave enough,” he falters. 

“Have you thought about including that on your list of goals?” Amy questions. 

“It’s on the list but I can’t guarantee that I’m going to do it.” Bucky picks at a loose thread on his sleeve. 

“I would advise that you tell him. When you know where your relationship stands you can set some goals that pertain to Captain Rogers. What else is on the list?” 

Bucky fidgets again in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs at the ankles before finally slouching down with his knees apart. “Independence, I guess,” he mumbles.

Amy taps her pen on her notebook again. “That’s a bit vague. We want to set goals that are more specific with concrete tasks you can do. What does independence mean to you?”

“Being able to go somewhere without Steve or Natasha,” Bucky says. 

“Good. Have you thought about where you’d like to go and who you’d like to be with?” 

Bucky scrunches his face, furrowing his brow and chewing on his lower lip as he tries to decide. Finally he settles on, “I want to go visit someone I don’t know as well on their own floor.” 

“Good. You can put that on your list. Anything else?” Amy prompts.

“More exercise, I guess. Steve always goes for a morning run but I don’t do much. Oh, um, specifics, right…uh, I’m not into running so, um….” 

“What type of exercise do you remember yourself enjoying?” 

“When I was younger I liked boxing and weights. One of those might be good,” Bucky says. 

“Why don’t you start going to the gym regularly and try them out? If you find you’re not as interested as you thought you can try something else. If you like them it can become a routine.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky agrees. Then he realizes that she’s waiting for him to continue and sputters out, “I don’t have anything else. I tried, really I did, but I don’t know what I want.” 

Amy doesn’t look disapproving though. “That’s very common, James. You have a good start though. I want you to work on making some small changes in your life and when you come in again we’ll discuss them.” 

Bucky leaves her office feeling wrung out emotionally and annoyed. He can’t concentrate on any sort of homework, not when Steve’s out there risking his life and hasn’t reported in yet. JARVIS brings down the elevator and when Bucky gets in he finds he’s not alone. “Hey Bucky,” Bruce greets him. 

Bucky slumps against the handrail and mutters, “Hey.”

“You worrying about Steve?”

“Yeah. Everyone keeps telling me he’s gonna be fine but I know he’s a dumb punk who’s going to get himself into some sort of trouble,” Bucky says. 

Bruce lets out a snicker. “Steve never did know how to back down from a fight.” 

“Got that right,” Bucky agrees. “Even when he was ninety pounds he’d throw himself headlong into a fight without worrying that he was going to get his ass kicked. He’d take on guys twice his size without a second thought.” 

Bruce grins at him. “I see nothing’s changed there.” 

“So they didn’t ask you to go along on the field trip?” 

“Wasn’t a code green. The Other Guy isn’t exactly good for subtle missions,” Bruce says mildly. 

“Guess he’s more of a smash and grab kinda guy.” Bucky grins back. 

“Hey, would you want to come up to my floor with me? I’m going to make some Darjeeling tea and I think you might like it,” Bruce offers.

Bucky’s knee-jerk reaction is to say no but then he remembers that one of his goals is to spend time with people without Steve or Natasha present. He needs the company too. Maybe it will help him take his mind off of the mission. “Okay.” 

JARVIS stops the elevator on Bruce’s floor, which turns out to be two floors below Bucky and Steve’s, and they head into the kitchen. Bucky perches on a stool at the breakfast bar and watches as Bruce busies himself with setting up the kettle. 

“So what exactly is Darjeeling tea?” Bucky asks. 

“It’s a tea that’s quite popular in India. It’s supposed to be good for you because it has antioxidents in it. I tried it when I was staying in Calcutta.”

Bucky leans forward in his seat, suddenly interested. “What were you doing there?” 

Bruce drops onto the stool across from him to wait for the kettle to boil. “I needed to get away for a bit and I find that helping people keeps the other guy in check.” 

“I was there once,” Bucky says quietly. He’s deliberately not looking at Bruce, leaving his gaze glued to his hands resting on the table. Bruce is silent for a moment and when Bucky looks up again he’s got a look on his face that says he’s warring between asking something and keeping quiet. Bucky decides to be blunt about it. “I know you want to ask me about Hydra. Go ahead.” 

“Did they send you to kill someone?” Bruce asks.

Bucky nods. “I shot a man through the head. Go on and tell me how horrible that is.”

“I’m not judging. You didn’t have a choice in the matter and I want to apologize to you for not being supportive of you getting your memories back. I wish I’d come along for the trip,” Bruce tells him. 

“It’s okay. I know the tesseract is dangerous and I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to know who I am.” Bucky fidgets with the loose thread on his sleeve again. 

“Do you?” Bruce asks. 

Bucky frowns and his gaze skates sideways. “I’m not sure yet.” After a beat of silence he decides to change the subject to something more light-hearted. “So, you and Nat, huh?”

“I knew that would come up some time,” Bruce chuckles. The kettle lets out a shrill whistle and he gets up from his seat to pour two cups of tea. He brings them back to the table, then fetches sugar, honey, and two spoons, before adding a huge dollop of honey to his own tea. When he’s seated again, he says, “It just sort of happened while we were in the middle of saving Sokovia. If the Other Guy hadn’t ended up on Sakaar it might have gone better though.” 

“And now that you’re back?” 

Bruce sighs. “We’re…getting there, I guess. There are a lot of trust issues on both our parts but we’ve been talking.” He sips his tea and doesn’t elaborate further. 

Bucky decides to let it drop. He tries his tea and finds that he likes it. He’s about to say something to that effect when JARVIS interrupts with, “Sargent Barnes, I have an incoming message for you from sir.” 

Bucky nearly falls off his chair in shock. “What is it? Is something wrong?” There’s only one reason why JARVIS would be sending the message instead of Steve himself and it’s not good. 

“Sir has asked that I request your presence in the medical bay. The Quinjet is due in an estimation of ten minutes and three people have been injured.”

“What is it? What are you not telling me? Is Steve okay?” 

His worst fears are confirmed when JARVIS answers, “I can confirm that Captain Rogers has sustained a severe injury that will most likely require surgical intervention.”

Bucky tries to take a breath but finds that he can’t get enough air into his lungs. His body flushes red hot, his flesh hand begins to tingle, and all at once the room seems to blur. He’s distantly aware of Bruce touching his shoulder. “It’s okay, Bucky. You’re okay; you’re just panicking.”

Bucky tries to speak but the only noise that comes out is a strangled moan. He realizes that he’s on his knees on the kitchen floor but he can’t seem to co-ordinate himself enough to move. Steve is hurt. Steve might be dying. What if Steve does die? What is he going to do without Steve in his life? He never told Steve how he feels and now it might be too late. If they’re separated again Bucky knows that there’s no way to come back from the devastation he’s going to feel. 

“Bucky, it’s going to be okay. We don’t know what the details are yet. It’s probably not as bad as JARVIS thinks and Steve will be fine. I bet Tony’s just freaking out right now and made it sound way worse than it is,” Bruce comforts him. He squeezes Bucky’s arm and then gets up from the floor, holding out a hand to help him up. “Come on, we have to go.” 

Bucky allows himself to be helped into a standing position on shaky legs and led into the nearest elevator. The ride to the medical bay is agonizingly slow. Bucky can’t stop thinking of all the possibilities that could mean “severely injured” and he finds himself hyperventilating. Bruce senses his distress and puts a hand on his arm, grounding him. 

When the elevator doors slide open, Bucky rushes into the med bay looking for Steve. He’s met by a battered-looking Tony Stark, still wearing his scratched and dented armor. He steps in front of Bucky, blocking his path, and the face plate on his suit lifts up to reveal a weary expression. “Woah, you might want to sit down. You don’t look so good.” 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky says frantically. “I need to see him.”

“He’s in surgery. Doctor Cho and her team are taking care of him,” Tony replies. He uses the extra strength the suit gives him to physically drag Bucky across the room and deposit him in the nearest chair. “Now be a good boy and stay there.” 

“What happened?” Bruce asks from where he’s standing behind Tony.

“Hydra’s contingency plan was actually a suicide mission and trap all in one. When Rumlow and his goons didn’t return they knew it was only a matter of time before we invaded and took whatever they were working on. The only people left were a handful of lower level lackeys and some scientists. Whatever they were researching they really didn’t want us getting our hands on it so they blew up the building,” Tony explains. 

Bruce’s expression turns pained. “Injury report?” 

“I’m fine and Natasha’s probably going to be okay. I sort of threw myself on top of her and the suit took most of the damage. She’s got some cuts and bruises but nothing serious. Clint and Steve got the worst of it. They were under Steve’s shield but they were closer to the blast than us. Clint’s got a broken leg that needs to be set-” 

“And Steve?” Bucky interrupts. 

“I’m getting to that. Cool your jets Robocop. Steve got hit with some shrapnel in his left side. We don’t know just how bad it is but Dr. Cho will let us know what’s up when she gets done with the surgery.” 

“How long?” Bucky asks. 

“I don’t know.” Tony turns to Bruce and offers, “I’ll stay with our resident cyborg for now. Nat’s gone up to her floor. I told her I’d have you meet her there.”

“Thanks,” Bruce says. He disappears into the elevator. 

Tony releases himself from the suit, then grabs a chair and pulls it up next to Bucky. “I know you’re worried but Doctor Cho is the best of the best. Why do you think I hired her? Steve’s probably going to be laid up for a few days but I’m sure he’ll be fine.” 

Bucky slouches back in his chair and sighs, “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

Tony inches his chair a little closer with a loud scrape. “Worrying isn’t gonna solve much right now. All we can do is wait for the doc, then you can play nursemaid. Now why don’t we watch something to pass the time while we wait? J, project something onto the nearest wall for us. Anything in particular you want to see?”

“Moana, I guess,” Bucky says dully. He expects Tony to make another ridiculous joke but he doesn’t so much as blink.

“You have good taste in Disney movies,” he says.


	27. Chapter 27

The credits are just starting to roll on Moana when Dr. Cho enters the room. She looks exhausted and there’s blood smeared across her scrubs. Bucky’s up from his chair and heading across the floor before he even realizes what he’s doing, with Tony trailing behind. “Is he going to be okay?” he demands. 

“The surgery went well, all things considered,” Dr. Cho says carefully, “but he lost a lot of blood before we were able to intervene. He’s in the recovery room in stable condition for now but we’re keeping a close eye on him.” 

“Can I see him?” Bucky asks. 

Dr. Cho nods. “You can sit with him but only two visitors at a time.” 

“You go in. I’m going to talk to Natasha and Bruce about going back to the site of the explosion; see if we can dig up anything of use,” Tony encourages. 

Bucky enters the recovery room and sees Steve lying in bed, covered in wires, tubes, and bandages. A heart monitor beeps steadily. He pulls a blue plastic chair next to Steve’s bed and sits down but isn’t quite sure of what to do next. He’s not sure if Steve can hear him but he decides to try talking to him anyways. “Hey Stevie. You had me worried sick when JARVIS said you were hurt. Dr. Cho says you’re gonna be okay though.”

Steve doesn’t give any sign that he’s heard and Bucky slouches back in his chair, preparing to spend the night at his friend’s bedside in vigil. He sits and listens to the noise of the heart monitor, the steady breaths that make Steve’s chest rise and fall, and it lulls him into a bit of a trance like state. His head lolls onto his shoulder, not quite asleep but not fully awake either. 

Hours pass. Bucky considers asking JARVIS to provide some sort of entertainment but then decides against it because it would be too noisy. He waits. The medical staff make frequent checks but Bucky barely notices their presence, focusing only on the sleeping man in the bed. Steve doesn’t even stir until close to midnight, his eyes fluttering open and blinking several times. He tries to talk but only manages to make a soft strangled noise. 

“Hi Steve,” Bucky says. 

“Buck…wha’…’appened?” 

“You got hurt on the mission. Dr. Cho says you’ll be okay but you need to rest,” Bucky tells him. 

“Hmmm…” Steve blinks again and swallows before whispering, “Thirsty.” 

"I’ll get you some water.” Bucky leaves the room and tracks down the nearest nurse, who gives him styrofoam cup full of ice chips and a plastic spoon. Steve frowns drowsily when he’s offered the spoon. “I know, you don’t like me treating you like a baby but you’re not in any shape to do this yourself,” Bucky scolds. Steve takes the ice chip without comment. 

“’m so tired,” he says after it’s melted away. 

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Bucky watches as Steve’s eyes fall closed again and his breathing relaxes into a steady rhythm. Bucky’s suddenly struck by the thought of how many times a scene like this has played out in their lives. 

_It’s nearly midnight but Bucky hasn’t been to sleep yet. Steve’s fever is still really high and he’s too worried, thinking that the moment he drifts off his friend will get worse. Steve’s lying on the bare mattress in just his underwear because he’s too hot for any clothes or blankets tonight. Bucky sponges his forehead with a cool wet cloth._

_“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Steve says mournfully._

_“Don’t talk like that. You’re gonna be fine,” Bucky reassures him._

_“Promise you’ll…promise you’ll bury me beside my ma. Know you don’t have the money for a headstone but that’s okay…”_

_“Stevie, that’s the fever talking. You’re not dying, just a bit sick.”_

_“Some day though,” Steve says hoarsely. “I don’t wanna leave you alone but some day it’s gonna happen.”_

_“We’re not going to think about that today. You’re going to get better again, just like you always do,” Bucky says firmly._

_Steve has no reply to that. He just closes his eyes and his tiny chest rises and falls, the sounds of wheezy breaths filling the room._

Steve’s in and out of consciousness a few times while Bucky sits with him. He’s barely lucid and usually doesn’t manage to string together any coherent sentences before he’s out again. The staff up the dose of his pain medication, hoping to keep him from waking. It’s closing in on two a.m. when Natasha enters the room. “How’s he holding up?” she asks. 

“Okay. He’s resting.” Bucky answers without tearing his gaze away from Steve’s still form.

“How about you?” Natasha pulls up one of the hard plastic chairs beside Bucky and sits down heavily. 

“I’m fine,” Bucky mutters. 

Natasha gives him a look that says he’s not fooling anyone. “You look exhausted. You should get some sleep.” 

“I’m fine. I need to stay here with Steve,” Bucky insists. 

Natasha gets up and starts tugging on his arm, urging him to rise from his chair. “You’re no good to him sleep-deprived. Come on.” 

Bucky refuses to let her move him. “I don’t want to go back to my floor and sleep there without Steve around. I want to stay here.” 

Natasha’s face softens and she lets go of his arm. “You don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to. I know it won’t be the same but you can sleep in my guest bedroom if you like. Steve wouldn’t want you to sit here and torture yourself.”

“Okay,” Bucky finally concedes. “Can you give me a few minutes though?” He expects Natasha to make some sort of sly comment but she just nods and exits the room. Bucky leans over Steve’s sleeping form and whispers, “I’ve gotta go but I promise I’ll be here when you wake up, just like I said.” He smooths away a strand of blond hair and then, on impulse, leans down and kisses Steve’s forehead. “I love you Stevie.” 

He finds Natasha waiting just outside the door. If she heard anything he said she gives no sign. On the way up to her floor she offers to have JARVIS stop the elevator on his so he can get some clothes but Bucky declines. He decides he can go back in the morning. 

Natasha shows Bucky to the guest room, tells him to make himself at home, and then heads to her own room for the night. He undresses, then crawls under the covers. It doesn’t feel the same as being in his own bed. It’s somehow foreign and uncomfortable to him and it takes a long time to fall asleep.

_They’re in a dance hall and there’s loud music playing. Bucky recognizes a song they both like so he reaches out to grasp Steve’s hand and pulls him to his feet. “Dance with me Stevie,” he says. Steve obliges. He looks so handsome in his dress greens and to Bucky there’s not a sight more beautiful in the world._

_“I can’t believe the war’s over. We can go home now,” Steve says happily as they waltz around the room._

_Bucky grins at him. “Things can go back to the way they were.”_

_The scene changes and Steve’s suddenly small again, dressed in everyday clothing consisting of a white shirt, brown pants, and a tie. He’s looking up at Bucky with those wide baby blue eyes from under his long lashes. “Huh, I guess the serum wasn’t permanent,” he wonders. He looks really disappointed but Bucky can’t help but smile._

_He reaches down and tilts Steve’s chin up. “You’ve always been beautiful to me. I love you.” Steve’s answering smile lights a fire within Bucky that he knows he can never quench. He’s never going to stop loving this man come hell or high water._

_“I love you too, Buck. You were always the one who saw me,” Steve replies._

_Bucky’s about to lean down for a kiss when he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. He flinches at the touch, whipping around to face whoever it is, and is shocked at the sight before him. The Winter Soldier is standing there dressed in full armor, his face covered by a mask and goggles, and he’s pointing a gun at them. “Steve, run!” Bucky shouts._

_Steve looks like he’s squaring up for a fight. “No, he’s not going to ruin our lives any more.”_

_“Just go!” Bucky flings himself wildly in between Steve and the Soldier. He knows that neither of them are a match for Hydra’s Asset but maybe he can buy some time if Steve will just follow his advice and run._

_“I’m not leaving you!” Steve says desperately. The Soldier shoves Bucky to the ground and trains his gun on Steve._

_“No!” Bucky shouts. He scrambles to get to his feet but it’s too late. Steve is lying in on the ground with a gunshot wound to the chest, blood spreading rapidly across his shirt as he gasps for breath. Bucky cradles his head and sobs, “No, no, no! Stevie, why didn’t you listen to me? I can’t lose you, I can’t!”_

_“I love you,” Steve whispers. His breathing becomes shallower and he closes his eyes._

Bucky’s howling in grief and fear when he feels someone shaking him. “James! Wake up!” He won’t let anyone else touch Steve. Steve is all he’s ever had in the world and even if he’s dead Bucky won’t let anyone take his body. 

He sits bolt upright and swings blindly with his fist, catching his tormentor in the jaw and knocking them backwards. He hears someone swear and that’s when he comes to. Natasha’s sitting on the floor, rubbing her face. “You have a hell of a right hook,” she grumbles. 

Bucky chokes out a horrified sound and clambers off the bed, rushing to her side to help her up. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he babbles over and over again. 

“I’m fine James.” She gets to her feet and reaches to touch him but he recoils. 

“Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hurt you!” Bucky backs against the wall, trying to get as far away as possible. 

“James, it’s okay. You were just having a nightmare,” Natasha soothes. She keeps her distance but keeps talking to him. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“It’s him. He’s still part of me and I can’t stop him,” Bucky whimpers. 

“The Soldier?” 

Bucky nods and wraps his arms around himself as though he can restrain the Soldier from attacking. “I can’t be here. I’ll kill you!” 

“James-” Natasha starts to say but he doesn’t stick around to hear her finish her sentence. He rushes out the door and into the living room with Natasha following him. “James, wait!”

Bucky slams on the button for the elevator and snaps, “Hurry up JARVIS!” Mercifully the doors open and he climbs aboard. “Take me to the roof.” 

“Sargent Barnes, it is currently raining. I would advise that you return to your floor.” 

“I don’t care. I want to go to the roof!” 

“Very well sir,” JARVIS says. The elevator ascends to the roof and Bucky stumbles out into the driving rain, going to sit in his usual spot. He drops heavily to the ground. The icy torrents soak his clothes through but he can’t bring himself to care as he drops his head in his hands and lets out a strangled sob. 

The Soldier is still a part of him, bringing out the worst and most violent tendencies in him and he knows now that he can’t be trusted. He needs to get as far away as possible before he hurts anyone else. Steve will be disappointed but Bucky hopes that he’ll understand. He lays down on his side and curls up in the fetal position as he begins to shiver. He decides that it doesn’t matter if he dies of hypothermia. He deserves much worse. 

Footsteps sound nearby and Natasha’s voice rings out. “James!” 

Bucky doesn’t move but he senses her crouching down by his side. Another voice next to her says, “Come on Barnes, you can’t stay out here. You’ll catch your death. Ugh, I sound like my mother.” _Stark,_ Bucky registers. 

He sits up and sees that Tony’s holding a red and white striped umbrella over the two of them to keep them dry. “Go away. I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky sobs. 

“James, it was an accident. You were dreaming and it wasn’t your fault,” Natasha consoles. Bucky notes the large bruise that’s formed on the side of her jaw and feels sick. He curls away from her. 

“It wasn’t me, it was him! I’ll never be free of him!” 

Natasha reaches out to touch his shoulder but he jerks away. “You were dreaming about the Solider?” 

Bucky nods. “Just go. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” 

Tony takes a step closer and crouches down in front of him.“Why don’t you come back inside and we’ll figure this out? I don’t know about you but I’m really not into taking outdoor showers.”

“No, go away!”

“If you don’t come in I’m getting my suit and I will **make** you,” Tony threatens. 

“Steve wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself,” Natasha says in a softer tone. 

That’s what does it. The idea that Steve could possibly be disappointed in Bucky pierces his heart like a knife so he says, “Okay,” in a small voice and gets to his feet. Natasha takes hold of his arm and guides him back to the elevator with Tony following behind. 

Once inside Tony shuts the umbrella. “Okay Barnes, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going back to your floor to get some dry clothes and have something to eat. Don’t look at me like that. I know how super soldier metabolisms work. Then you’re going to a teleconference with Dr. Sullivan. She’s agreed to see you even though it’s still early.” 

“What time’s it?” Bucky asks blearily. 

“The time is six oh two am,” JARVIS answers. Bucky feels tired. He rubs at his eyes and finds himself wishing that he could just drop to the floor and sleep despite being uncomfortably damp. Instead he leans against the wall and closes his eyes. 

“We’re here.” Natasha grabs Bucky by the arm and tugs him off the elevator, steering him across the floor until they reach his bedroom. “Put some dry clothes on and then come and eat something.” 

Bucky does what he’s told. He puts on the first things he can find that are clean: a t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie. When he emerges he finds Natasha in the midst of making breakfast. He slumps down at the table and rests his head in his hands until a plate of eggs and toast appears. It tastes like sawdust in his mouth but Bucky eats it. Afterwards Tony tells him to go back to his room and hands him his tablet. 

“Dr. Sullivan is going to do a video conference with you. JARVIS will take care of putting the call through when you’re ready.” 

Bucky goes into his room and shuts the door, then sits on the bed and tells JARVIS that it’s okay to start the conference. When Amy’s face shows up on screen he bursts into tears and sobs so hard that he’s unable to form any coherent words let alone tell her what’s wrong. 

“It’s going to be okay, James,” she reassures him. She immediately starts leading him in an exercise to reduce anxiety. Bucky’s asked to take a slow deep breath in through his nose while counting to five, then breathe out again and focus on calming. He does this several times until Amy switches to having him clench and unclench all of his muscles, one by one, until he’s able to relax his body. 

“I want you to do something else for me as well, James. Pick five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste,” Amy instructs. 

“Ummm...” Bucky fumbles. “Well, uh, I can see you…” 

“That’s good. Keeping going,” she encourages. 

“Uh, four more things. I can see the bed, the lamp, the dresser, and um, the walls of this room. I can touch my leg and feel the threads in my jeans. I can touch the blanket on my bed. Um…” 

“Two more,” Amy says. 

Bucky continues with, “I can touch the headboard of my bed and feel that it’s made of wood and uh…I can touch my face and feel my own skin.” 

“Good, now three things you can hear.” 

“I can hear your voice, I can hear Tony and Natasha in the kitchen, and I can hear myself talking.” 

“Two things you can smell,” Amy prompts. 

“I can smell the shampoo I used on my hair and the detergent used to wash my clothes.” 

“One thing you can taste.” 

Bucky frowns, thinking hard about it. “Ugh, I can taste my own morning breath. I need to brush my teeth,” he says and then smiles. 

Amy lets out an amused chuckle. “Good. Now I want to know how you’ve been feeling lately. Mr. Stark said you suffered some setbacks after Captain Rogers was hospitalized?” 

Bucky spills out every horrible detail to her, unburdening himself of his fears that Steve is going to die, that the Winter Soldier still lurks below the surface, the nightmare he experienced, and how he feels that he can’t close his eyes because he might end up hurting someone. Amy has him talk each one through in turn, examining them all and by the end of it Bucky begins to feel like he’s been irrational. 

Steve is currently receiving the best medical care available and is in stable condition, even if it might take him awhile to heal. The Winter Soldier is not something he can get rid of easily but now that he’s removed the triggers the possibility of him forgetting he’s Bucky and turning into the Soldier again is slim to none. He’s the one in control now. The nightmare was just a nightmare. He reacted out of fear and, while he can’t shake his guilt for hurting Natasha, he realizes that he was half asleep and wasn’t thinking properly. He’s exhausted but isn’t sure he can sleep. 

“I’m going to talk to Dr. Cho and have her prescribe something to help you sleep. I want you to promise that you’ll take it and get some rest,” Amy says. 

“I will,” Bucky agrees. They end the call and he heads out into the kitchen to face Natasha and Tony. 

Natasha takes in the sight of his reddened eyes with concern. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just had to deal with some shit,” Bucky answers. She nods like she understands and doesn’t question him further. He slumps down at the table and closes his eyes. Exhaustion is swiftly catching up with him but he isn’t ready to allow himself to crash just yet.

JARVIS announces that Bucky needs to go to the medical bay to get his medication from Dr. Cho and Natasha volunteers to accompany him. Tony excuses himself to get some sleep of his own, having been up all night working on a new suit. It’s only then that Bucky notices he has a smear of grease on one cheek and is wearing a rumpled band t-shirt, jeans with holes in the knees, and a pair of running shoes. Bucky gets back on the elevator and leans against the wall again.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” Natasha warns. She jostles his arm and it wakes him up enough to stay upright for awhile longer. Once in the medical bay a very tired looking Dr. Cho explains to Bucky that he’s being given a synthesized sedative powerful enough to knock out a super soldier and keep him asleep for several hours. She hands over a vial of bright yellow pills. He’s to take two. 

Once they’ve arrived back upstairs Natasha tells Bucky in a tone that brooks no argument that he should go straight to bed. He brushes his teeth, dresses himself in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and climbs into bed. Natasha hands him the pills and a glass of water. “Can you stay till I fall asleep?” he asks. 

“Of course.” She perches on the end of the bed, watching Bucky get comfortable and close his eyes.

The last thing he hears is her singing softly in Russian before he falls asleep.


	28. Chapter 28

Bucky awakes to find that it’s nearing three in the afternoon. After he’s showered, dressed, and eaten something he visits Steve. There’s not much change in his condition. He’s still on heavy pain meds, lying there blissfully asleep with his long lashes sweeping across his cheeks. Bucky pulls up a chair and takes out his tablet.

He spends the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening alternating between reading and watching Steve for any changes but he remains unconscious the entire time. Just before Bucky leaves he leans over Steve’s slumbering form again and whispers, “I love you.” 

He wishes he could say it out loud. He wishes he wasn’t such a coward and that he could tell Steve when he’s conscious and alert enough to understand. He knows he can’t. Steve might not abandon him for it but it could drive a wedge into their friendship, destroying the one good thing Bucky has in his life. The thought of Steve rejecting him is too heartbreaking to even think about. It would shatter him completely. 

Bucky gets onto the elevator but he doesn’t know where to go. He doesn’t want to return to his floor and be alone again but it’s getting late and he really doesn’t want to impose on anyone. He settles for asking, “JARVIS, is there anyone still awake?”

“Sir is currently in his lab working on improvements to the Mark Forty-Three armor,” JARVIS answers. 

“Can you take me down there?” 

“Of course Sargent Barnes.” 

Bucky emerges from the elevator to find a giant glass-encased room with several workbenches filled with parts, futuristic looking computer displays, a row of cars that are probably worth more than he could ever hope to earn in his life, and a wall of what could only be described as “pods”, each holding a different type of suit. AC/DC is blaring over the speakers. 

Bucky lets himself in and looks around for Tony. He finds him in the middle of the organized chaos at one of the workbenches. Pieces of a new suit are spread out on the bench surrounded by wires, tools, and spare parts. Tony’s manipulating the computer display overhead as he frowns in concentration. When he catches sight of Bucky he commands, “J, music!” 

JARVIS turns down the music and Bucky wanders over to stand across from Tony at the workbench. “How ya feeling, Robocop?” 

Bucky doesn’t know how to answer that so he just shrugs. “Okay, I guess.” 

Tony continues to manipulate the display, moving parts around as he sees fit. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not tired. Just came from seeing Steve,” Bucky admits. 

Tony frowns at his design schematics again, then pulls a virtual piece off and begins enlarging it. “Any change?” He gestures to Bucky to grab the closest stool and sit down.

Bucky drags the stool over to the bench and drops onto it heavily, his gaze landing on the table. “He’s still on a lot of pain medication. He didn’t wake up this time.” 

Tony enlarges the display again and makes a noise of frustration. “Fuck, that’s where the problem is. I’m going to have to make an adjustment,” he groans. He picks up a screwdriver and begins dismantling one of the parts from the workbench. “So, any plans to tell Cap about your feelings for him once he wakes up?” 

“What?” Bucky blurts out, caught off guard. 

“You know, the elephant in the room. The sexual tension between the two of you is really starting to get annoying,” Tony says, not taking his eyes off of the tiny screws he’s currently removing and stacking in a pile on the workbench. 

Bucky chews on his lower lip. “Great, does everyone know?” 

Tony raises his eyebrows and lets out a low chuckle. “It’s pretty obvious that you’re in love with Steve. And even more obvious that he’s in love with you but he’s just being, well, ‘Steve’ about it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh, you know, when something’s too uncomfortable to confront he just bottles it up and pretends it doesn’t exist,” Tony says nonchalantly as he removes yet another screw. 

Bucky furrows his brow and scuffs his toe across the floor, thinking back to Steve and Peggy during the war and the way they were obviously drawn to each other. “Steve’s not like that. I mean, during the war he was crazy about Peggy. He had a picture of her in his compass and everything.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Tony’s got the screwdriver tucked behind his ear now and he’s pulling wires out and stripping them.

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see how obvious it was that the two of them were falling for each other,” Bucky says bitterly. 

“And you weren’t there when I asked him about her. I asked him if she was hot and he avoided the question. He told me some story about her coming into a bar wearing a red dress but he didn’t directly say that he was crazy about her or anything,” Tony interjects.

“Steve’s just shy when it comes to dames. I’d try to fix him up with pretty girls all the time but he had trouble talking to them and that, combined with him being so short and sickly, made them just look past him. I think he hung onto some of that after the serum.” 

“What about you, two buck chuck? History says you were quite the ladies’ man,” Tony chuckles. 

Bucky ducks his head and lets out a snort. “They’ve got that all wrong. Back then you didn’t dare tell anyone you had feelings for another man. If you were okay looking and nice enough to have dames interested in you then it would look suspicious if you turned them down all the time, especially if you weren’t going steady with anyone. I chased skirt because that’s what everyone expected of me, not cause I was interested. Why do you think none of them lasted?” 

“So you dated women and and even slept with them but you’re gay? How does that even work?” Tony says curiously. 

Bucky sighs. He knew someone would ask eventually and he really doesn’t know how to explain any of it. “It was just…’okay’ when I’d go home with a dame. It would take me a bit to get worked up enough to actually have sex but I managed okay. There was a reason why I liked blondes though.”

Tony raises an eyebrow as he works on methodically pulling wires out of the device he’s holding. “’Managed and okay are not something you ever want to put in the same sentence with sex.” 

Bucky averts his eyes as the feeling of shame wells up in him, leaving a white hot ember burning in his chest and staining his cheeks a faint pink. “I’d pretend sometimes.” 

“You’d pretend they were Steve.” Tony voices the one thing Bucky’s been too ashamed to ever admit to anyone, not even the time he went to confession and tried to talk to Father Simon about it. The words had failed him then and he’d ended up making up some lame sounding sins because he was too afraid to let the truth fall from his lips. Instead he’d packed it up into a box and tried to forget. 

“I did,” he says in a near whisper. “It was something I had to hide. I couldn’t let shame touch Steve. He never deserved that.”

“You know things are different now, right?” Tony reaches for a soldering gun at the end of the workbench. 

“Yeah, I know. Natasha told me. I guess I’m just afraid of losing the one thing I have left from my old life. Steve’s the only one who can understand what it’s like to be stuck in a completely new world where everything you knew is gone.” 

“And Steve would never abandon you. The minute he knew you were alive he was ready to do whatever it took to get you back, no matter what it cost him. If that’s not love then I don’t know what is.” Tony begins to solder two wires together. 

“Maybe he just wanted to get me back because I’m what’s left of home,” Bucky counters. 

“Well no matter what Mr. Star Spangled thinks I’d say it’s important that you tell him. What if he’d died on our last mission? What if he dies on a future mission? He’d die never knowing how much you love him and you’d miss your chance again,” Tony points out.

Bucky sighs. “I don’t know. I need some time to get my head straight about this.” 

“I’d say straight isn’t the word for it,” Tony snickers. 

Later that night when Bucky’s gone back to his floor in the tower he still feels conflicted even though he concedes that Tony has a point. He wanders through the living room, turning off all of the lights along the way, and goes straight to his bedroom to lie down. Sleep doesn’t come to him though. He tosses and turns, feeling like the bed is too big and the room is too empty. After a few hours, Bucky gets up, intent on going out to the living room to watch a movie, but in the hallway he hesitates. 

He finds himself drawn to Steve’s room. Bucky turns on the bedside lamp and flops down on Steve’s bed. The pillow smells like the shampoo Steve uses, a vaguely citrus-like scent, along with something kind of spicy, and something that is undeniably just ****Steve****. Bucky pulls a blanket over top of himself and curls up on his side. 

He thinks about what it would be like if Steve feels the same way he does. What if Tony’s right and the two of them could be together? They were certainly handed a second chance when Steve discovered that Bucky was alive. He decides that Tony’s right. It could end up being like the train all over again if he doesn’t say something soon and he knows that the grief of never having told Steve would gnaw at him forever. He closes his eyes and dreams that Steve loves him back. 

The next day Bucky heads back to the medical bay once he’s eaten and dressed. He finds Steve sitting up in bed and playing Candy Crush on a tablet that must have been given to him. “Hey Buck, how are you?” he says congenially. 

Bucky pulls up one of the hard plastic chairs and sits down. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Steve sets down the tablet and gives him one of his withering “Captain America is disappointed in you” glares. “Don’t avoid the question. Natasha said that you’ve been having a hard time lately and I want to know if I have to worry about you.” 

Bucky fidgets uncomfortably in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his ankles and fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. This could be it. He could come out with it right now and tell Steve what’s on his mind but cowardice silences him. “Bucky?” Steve prompts when he’s not forthcoming with an answer.

“I’m okay,” he says quietly, not daring to look Steve in the eye. “I just had some shit I had to work through. Still do, actually.” 

Steve reaches out and grasps his hand. “You don’t have to do it alone. If you want to talk I’m always here for you. End of the line, remember?” 

Bucky squeezes his hand. “I know. I just need some time to think things through.” He quickly turns the conversation back to Steve. “Do you know when you’re getting out of here?”

“Tomorrow, provided that I can get up and get to the bathroom by myself,” Steve says. 

Bucky takes the opportunity to tease him. “Three days? Come on Rogers, you’re slacking off. I’ve seen you get shot in the neck and you were up and around in hours.” 

“Hey, being grazed by a bullet isn’t the same as being pierced by a thousand tiny pieces of shrapnel!” Steve protests but he’s laughing. 

The rest of their visit goes quite well and by the time Bucky has to leave he’s nearly forgotten that he screwed up his chance to tell Steve about his feelings. He doesn’t feel like being alone on his floor again so he asks JARVIS to take him up to Natasha’s. He finds her lounging on the couch with a magazine. “Hey James,” she says without looking up. 

“Hey,” Bucky says somewhat awkwardly. Natasha waves for him to take a seat so he gingerly lowers himself into the armchair. 

Natasha tosses her magazine onto the coffee table and stretches languidly. “Did you visit Steve?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. 

“And?” Natasha prods. 

Bucky can’t look at her. “I choked. I could have told him but I was too afraid. 

“I think you made a good decision on this one,” Natasha says, surprising him completely. “It’s probably not a good idea to do it in a place you could be overheard. Wait till he comes home tomorrow and talk in private.” 

“You’re right, I’m an idiot,” Bucky sighs.

“Well you’re my idiot because I like you so much.” Natasha grabs the remote control and turns on the tv. “What do you say we have dinner and a movie tonight? I’m in the mood for Chinese.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky agrees. He settles back in his chair and props his feet up on the coffee table.


	29. Chapter 29

Steve groans as Bucky helps him from the wheelchair onto his bed. “I changed the sheets for you so they’re clean.” 

“Thanks,” Steve says wearily. The trip from the med bay to their floor has taken a lot out of him. He doesn’t complain as he submits to Bucky tucking the blanket around him and propping him up with several pillows. Bucky makes sure that a bottle of water and Steve’s tablet are in easy reach, leaving them on the nightstand next to the bed. 

“If you need anything, let me know. I don’t want you getting hurt all over again,” Bucky admonishes him. 

“Yes ma,” Steve sing-songs and rolls his eyes. He gestures for Bucky to take a seat on the bed. “Stay and keep me company for a bit. I’m so sick of lying around.” 

Bucky does as he’s told. He wonders if now is the right time to tell Steve but swallows hard and loses his nerve. He feels disappointment rising within himself as he wonders if he’ll ever be able to get over his insecurities and tell his best friend the truth. He becomes dimly aware of Steve trying to get his attention. “Sorry, what?” 

“That’s been happening a lot lately. Where do you go when you do that?” Steve says worriedly. 

Bucky fidgets on the bed, toying with the sleeve of the sweater he’s wearing and deliberately not looking at him. “I’m just thinking some stuff through. I’m not ready to talk to anyone but Dr. Sullivan about it just yet.” When he finally looks up he sees Steve looking at him with a soft expression.

“Whatever it is you know that I won’t judge you for it, right?”

“I know. I just need some time,” Bucky answers. Steve looks disappointed but doesn’t press any further, instead changing the subject entirely and asking what they should do for lunch later. They spend a comfortable hour or so chatting about everything and nothing before Bucky delivers the next dose of painkillers. Steve naps afterwards, leaving Bucky to wander their floor by himself, thinking long and hard but not coming to any sort of helpful conclusion on fixing his predicament.

Steve ends up sleeping through lunch and doesn’t wake until somewhere around the time Bucky’s fixing supper. He stumbles his way into the kitchen and tries several times to clamber onto one of the breakfast bar stools to no avail. “You won’t be able to sit there. Go lie on the couch,” Bucky directs him. Steve looks annoyed but does as he’s told. 

“I hate this,” he moans from the living room. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You’d think the world was ending just because you’re supposed to be resting.” Steve makes a noise of frustration but doesn’t comment any further. He knows from experience that he won’t win against Bucky. 

Bucky finishes off the pile of grilled cheese sandwiches he’s making and separates them onto two plates with a side of pickles, then adds a dollop of ketchup to Steve’s. He carries them out into the living room. “Here. It’s not fancy but it’ll work.” Steve props himself into a sitting position against the arm of the couch and takes the plate gratefully. 

“I know, I know, I’m a terrible patient and I shouldn’t complain,” he says. 

Bucky gives him a fond smile and sits down on the other end of the couch. “Some things never change.” Steve gives him the middle finger in response and they both burst out laughing. They have JARVIS switch on the tv to play a movie and, after a brief argument about what to watch, Steve chooses a movie called _Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were Rabbit._

It turns out to be a silly children’s movie made with clay animation. Bucky scoffs at how none of Steve’s movie choices seem to be very mature, which earns him a pickle lobbed in the direction of his forehead. “Just because you’re bored doesn’t mean you can be childish,” Bucky scolds but he’s trying hard not to laugh. 

“Hey, I’ve gotta have a little fun!” Steve flashes that beautiful grin of his and Bucky feels his stomach flip. He tries to push the feeling down but it’s starting to get increasingly difficult as of late. 

The two of them watch the movie in companionable silence, occasionally laughing when something silly happens on screen. Bucky thinks that they could almost be back in their apartment in Brooklyn if their surroundings where much shabbier and the movie was replaced with a radio show. He feels a pang of sadness thinking about how the two of them can never have that again. He knows that things have vastly improved in some areas, like Steve’s health and certain civil rights, but he can’t help but wonder what could have been. 

His feelings must show on his face because Steve asks, “Hey Buck, penny for your thoughts?” 

Bucky sets his plate down on the coffee table and turns to look at him. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we’d never gone to war?” 

Steve doesn’t seem at all fazed by it, answering quickly, “Yeah, I thought about it a lot after I came out of the ice. I suppose you would have kept working at the docks and eventually married some nice girl and had a family with her. I don’t know about about me. I was always so sick and I probably would have died sooner rather than later.” 

“I would have looked after you till the end,” Bucky says quietly. He’s rewarded with a gentle smile from his friend. 

“I would have been grateful for it, believe me. I know I didn’t always show you appreciation but without you I wouldn’t have survived and I’m thankful every day for it.” 

“Don’t be so sappy,” Bucky growls, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

Steve puts his plate down on the table and reclines back on the couch again. “Urgh, I need another nap. The serum always makes me so tired when I’m healing.” 

“Do you want more painkillers?” Bucky asks. 

“No, I think I’m okay.” Steve closes his eyes as the credits roll on the movie. Bucky takes both plates into the kitchen and puts them in the dishwasher, then returns to the living room and shuts off the tv. He sits in the armchair and watches Steve sleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest unburdened with the wheezing Bucky remembers so well.

They’ve both changed so much in the last seventy years. Bucky finds himself wishing that they could be in the here and now but unburdened of the horrors that plagued them before they were both forced to give their lives in someone else’s war. He spends most of the evening reading on his tablet and then retires to his room to try to sleep. 

Bucky tosses and turns, unable to quiet his mind because thoughts about his feelings for Steve keep rattling around in it. Finally, after two hours, he gives up and dresses himself, then heads up to the roof to sit in his usual spot, looking out over the city at nothing in particular. He doesn’t know how long he’s there but after awhile he hears the sound of the elevator. 

Bucky doesn’t move. He knows it’ll be Steve coming to check on him so he remains in place, keeping his gaze fixed on the horizon even as he hears footsteps behind him. “Aren’t you cold?” Steve asks. He drapes a blanket over Bucky’s shoulders and then begins the arduous task of lowering himself into a sitting position. 

“I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep,” he replies, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders. 

Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Buck, I know you said you’re not ready to talk to me but I’m really starting to get worried about you. Let me help.” 

Bucky finally turns to look him in the eye and mutters, “You can’t.” 

“Is it something I did? The only time you’d never tell me what was bothering you was when you were pissed off at me. Just let me know what it is so I can try to fix it.”

Bucky’s carefully not looking at Steve, instead dropping his eyes back to the skyline. “There’s so many lights now. It makes it hard to see the stars.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Steve asks in confusion.

“It’s just…” Bucky fumbles for the right words. “Everything’s different now and maybe it’ll be okay but I’m still afraid.” 

Steve reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Bucky, are you trying to tell me you’re homesick? It’s okay you know. I feel that way too sometimes when I realize just how different things are from the forties.” 

Bucky’s face crumples and he shakes his head. “Shit, I’m not doing a very good job at telling you, am I?” 

Steve’s laugh reverberates through the night air. “I’ll admit I’m a little confused.” 

Bucky runs a hand through his hair and tries to take a deep breath. It’s now or never. He opens his mouth to tell Steve the truth, without beating around the bush this time, but what comes out instead is, “Everyone’s figured out what’s wrong with me and none of them have treated me badly for it so maybe the future isn’t so bad after all. I don’t have to pretend for them. I don’t want to do it for you either but it’s different.” 

“In what way?” Steve asks. He still looks completely bewildered but he seems to be okay with letting Bucky take his time to work out what he needs to say. 

“You remember how it used to be. I’d take out dames and we’d go dancing and then I’d drink everyone under the table. Ended up getting quite the reputation according to the history books - and Tony - but they were all wrong. I never wanted any of them because my heart belonged to someone I couldn’t have, someone who was right in front of me the whole time.” Bucky looks down at his lap, unable to see the condemnation in Steve’s eyes. When there’s no response, he lifts his head. “Stevie?”

“Are you telling me -?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. Steve suddenly lunges towards him and he doesn’t bother to defend himself, knowing that he deserves this, that he’s just lost his best friend and the only person who was willing to fight for him when he was the Soldier. They end up lying flat on the ground but the expected blow never comes. Instead, Bucky feels the gentle press of lips on his own. 

It takes him a second to process but eventually his brain manages to realize that ****Steve is kissing him!**** Bucky finally responds by kissing back hungrily as he winds his arms around Steve to pull him closer, desperate to get as much contact he can manage while totally forgetting about his friend’s injuries. Steve pulls back with a sharp gasp. “Ow,” he complains. 

Bucky abruptly lets go. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.” 

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have jumped you,” Steve says as he tries to gingerly push himself into a sitting position. 

“How long?” Bucky asks breathlessly.

“Forever.” Steve grins. 

“What about you and Peggy? You seemed like you two were really falling for each other. I thought you’d be happy together,” Bucky says. 

“It’s...” Steve fumbles for the right explanation. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to make it sound like she was a…a consolation prize or something because I really did care about her. It wasn’t the same as what I felt for you though. Back then I was in love with the idea of being married and having a family and since I couldn’t tell you about my feelings I thought I’d find someone I could have a good life with. Peggy was like you. She saw who I was even when I was smaller, just like you did, and that’s what drew me to her.”

“And now?” Bucky prompts. 

“I think that guy went into the ice and someone else came out. I woke up and I realized that sometimes life can change at a moment’s notice so you have to take the chance to find love, even when you’re scared. I thought it was too late though. Then I saw you on the bridge and I thought ‘this is my second chance’.” 

“Still took you long enough,” Bucky teases, grinning. 

“I didn’t want to put any pressure on you. You needed time to work on recovering,” Steve says. He shifts his position uncomfortably and winces. “Can we go inside? This isn’t the best place for me to sit.” 

Bucky climbs to his feet and offers his hand. Steve takes it and together they manage to carefully raise him from the ground. They take the elevator back to their floor in comfortable silence but Bucky hesitates when they get to the hallway, unsure of which room he should be in. He catches Steve by the hand and manages to mumble, “Come and sleep with me.” 

Steve’s cheeks go bright pink and he sputters, “I-I don’t…I mean…” 

“Just to sleep,” Bucky corrects himself. “I’m not expecting…you know…tonight. I just want you to be close by.” 

“Okay,” Steve agrees. He lets Bucky lead him into the bedroom. They both get undressed for bed and then curl up together, face-to-face. 

Just before he starts to drift off, Bucky murmurs, “Stevie?”

“Hmm?”

“If I had to do everything over again I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Why’s that?” Steve whispers. 

“Because it brought me here,” Bucky answers. 

“Same. Love you,” Steve says sleepily.

“Love you too.” Bucky closes his eyes and has the best nightmare free sleep he’s had in a long time.


	30. Chapter 30

Bucky wakes up to find himself flat on his back with one arm dangling off the mattress. He stretches and rolls onto his side, taking in the beautiful sight of a sleeping Steve Rogers, who’s curled up on his side just like he did when he smaller. “You know it’s rude to stare,” Steve mutters. 

“I’m not staring, I’m admiring,” Bucky informs him. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Steve yawns and stretches. 

“Where’s the fun in that? Pictures don’t talk back and you can’t touch them.” Bucky reaches over and trails his fingers up under Steve’s t-shirt, feeling the smooth skin of his stomach. He drags them over Steve’s ribs and snickers as he flinches. 

“That tickles!” he laughs. 

“Seventy years and still ticklish in the same spots.” Bucky drags his fingers down again and lets them dip into the hem of Steve’s boxer shorts. He stops short when Steve catches his wrist, stilling his hand, and moving it back to Steve’s hip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Bucky apologizes. 

“It’s okay. I’m just not, uh, ready for that yet,” Steve mumbles. His cheeks are flushed an adorable shade of pink.

“It’s fine, I understand,” Bucky tells him. Then a thought suddenly strikes him and he blurts out, “Have you not had sex since you were defrosted?” 

Steve’s face is now glowing like the setting sun. “I haven’t…I mean…” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve never…not with anyone.” 

Bucky’s mouth drops open in shock. “You’re a virgin?” 

Steve looks like he’s so mortified that he wants to melt into the mattress and disappear. He tries to turn away but Bucky throws an arm around his waist to prevent him from moving. “Hey, don’t be embarrassed. I’m just surprised is all.” 

Steve inches over again and curls up against Bucky’s side, careful to arrange himself so he doesn’t put any pressure on his injuries, then drops a quick kiss on his lips. “I don’t want anyone to know. Everyone around here makes it sound like being a virgin is something to be ashamed of. People are so forward about sex these days. If I ever told Tony he’d never let me hear the end of it.” 

“So you and Peggy never-?”

“There wasn’t time. After you fell from the train I put all of my focus on stopping Red Skull. Peggy and I kissed once, just before I climbed onto the Valkyrie, but that was it.”

“Jesus Steve, you mean you never tried it on with anyone after you came out of the ice? Not even when you thought I was dead?” 

“Wasn’t anyone worth doing it with,” Steve says simply.

Bucky looks at him incredulously. “What if I’d stayed dead? What would you have done then?”

“Put all of my effort into saving the world and tell everyone I don’t have time to date. That’s what I was doing before you turned up again,” Steve says, snuggling in even closer. “It’s not like I can miss what I’ve never had anyway.” 

“We’ll take it slow. I should take you out on a proper date first,” Bucky declares but then reality sinks in and his face falls. “Shit. I don’t suppose I can take you anywhere when I’m legally dead and don’t have any money. We might have to improvise.”

Steve just laughs. “I’m sure Tony and JARVIS will be able to help with that eventually. We can stay in for our first date.” 

Bucky grins at that. He’s going to have to do some planning and probably ask someone for help but he’s willing to rise to the challenge. For now though, he just wants to stay cocooned in bed under the warmth of the blankets and never let go of Steve. “I wish we could stay here all day.” 

“What, spend the day in bed? We could, you know. Neither of us have anywhere we need to be,” Steve rationalizes. 

Bucky squeezes him tighter and drops a kiss to the top of his head. “Sounds like a plan.”

The two of them get all of ten minutes of cuddle time before JARVIS ruins the moment by announcing, “Captain Rogers, your presence is requested on the roof for a flight to Sokovia. Sir has asked me to tell you that it’s an emergency situation, otherwise he wouldn’t ask due to your injuries. You will be leaving in ten minutes to deal with a hostage situation created by a villain calling himself ‘Doctor Doom’.”

Steve groans and wriggles out from Bucky’s hold. “Sorry Buck, I guess I’ve gotta take a rain check.” He hops out of bed and pads down the hall to his own room to fetch his suit, leaving a bereft Bucky behind. 

Bucky raises his middle finger at the ceiling. “JARVIS, do me a favour. Next time Steve and I are in bed, tell Tony to fuck off.” 

“Duly noted Sargent Barnes.”

When Steve emerges from his room, he’s dressed in his Captain America suit with his shield strapped to his back, looking every inch the infallible defender of the world the press makes him out to be. “Come here,” Bucky says. He climbs out of bed and draws Steve in for a quick kiss good-bye. “Stay safe out there punk.” 

“I will you jerk,” Steve chuckles. He gives Bucky a silly, mocking salute and heads out. 

Bucky doesn’t feel like going back to sleep afterwards so he gets up, showers, dresses, and has breakfast before settling down on the couch with his tablet. He tries searching for date ideas, thinking that he’ll surprise Steve when he returns if the mission doesn’t go pear-shaped. Bucky sorts through a few lists but most of them require things he doesn’t have or money. 

He leans back on the couch and groans in frustration. He wants to do something that isn’t just watching a movie but he’s severely lacking in resources. He resorts to asking for help. “JARVIS, I need to plan a date for me and Steve that doesn’t cost anything. Got any ideas?” 

“Sir has given you access to the team’s expense account with a few limitations. I can place online orders for you if you require any assistance.” 

“What sort of limitations?” Bucky asks.

“You can spend no more than one thousand dollars per day and are not permitted to order any weapons, illegal drugs, bio-hazardous material, or counterfeit items.”

“What? A thousand per day? Are you kidding me?” Bucky shouts. 

“I assure you I am quite serious Sargent Barnes,” JARVIS says. 

Bucky grabs his tablet and starts scrolling through the last website he’s got up. “If I give you a list, can you order it?” 

“Of course Sargent.” 

Bucky quickly makes a mental tally of everything he’ll need and starts listing it off. JARVIS tells him that it will take a few hours but he’ll have one of Tony’s staff bring everything up for him once it arrives. With that settled Bucky sits back and chooses something to watch that isn’t animated or technically for children, deciding on a cooking show called __Nailed It!__ It turns out to be a hilarious reality show that focuses on regular people trying to bake professional creations.

Bucky finds himself rolling on the couch, nearly crying with laughter as each contestant’s final creation is unveiled. He ends up binge watching several episodes. They’ve just gotten to the reveal of a cake that’s supposed to resemble a shark when JARVIS announces, “Sargent Barnes, your deliveries will be arriving shortly.” 

He hears the sound of the elevator and one of Tony’s staff appears with several bags, which she gratefully hands off to Bucky before heading off again. It doesn’t take him long to set up. Once everything is to his liking he finds himself immediately starting to worry about when he should start cooking. “JARVIS do you know when the team’s coming back?” 

“I currently have no estimated time of arrival.” 

“Let me know when they leave for the tower,” Bucky says. He decides to do the prep work for dinner so he’s not left scrambling when Steve returns. He props his tablet up on the kitchen counter with the recipe pulled up and sets to work, methodically slicing ingredients and then adding them to pots on the stove. It takes him nearly thirty minutes to finish cooking and assemble everything but when he’s done he’s made what he thinks is a decent shepherd’s pie. He puts it in the fridge for later.

Bucky passes the rest of the afternoon by having JARVIS direct him to the gym where he spends an enjoyable two hours beating on one of Tony’s reinforced punching bags until it breaks. JARVIS assures him that there are many more where that came from so he decides not to worry about it too much. After showering he heads back upstairs to finish the rest of the tv show he’s been watching and then spends some time reading on his tablet.

It’s nearing early evening when JARVIS announces that the quinjet in en route to the tower and will be there in a little over an hour. Bucky puts the shepherd’s pie into the oven and then starts working on the final touches by slicing up the thick crusty bread he bought and creating a cheese plate. Then he waits nervously, occasionally watching the oven. It feels like an eternity before JARVIS tells him that Steve is on his way down to their floor.

Bucky’s just checking the oven again when he hears the sound of the elevator doors opening. “Bucky?” Steve calls. 

“In here,” he replies. Steve comes into the kitchen, still wearing his uniform and carrying the shield, but he’s missing his helmet and covered in dirt from head to toe. He’s got one hand on his side, clearly experiencing some pain. Bucky rushes to him. “Stevie, what happened? Are you hurt? Do you need to go to the med bay?”

“I just came from there. They said I’m okay; I just overdid it a little,” Steve groans. 

“A little?” Bucky scoffs. 

“Okay, a lot.” Steve looks over Bucky’s shoulder and takes in the state of the kitchen. “What’s all this?”

“Date night. I hope you like it,” Bucky says nervously, gesturing to the kitchen. The dining room table is covered in a blue and white tablecloth, set with the nicest tableware he could find in the cupboard, and has two wine glasses set out with a bottle of red wine chilling while flame-less candles complete the ambiance. Bucky’s turned the kitchen lights down lower than normal and JARVIS is helpfully playing a selection of love songs he’s compiled. 

Steve’s cheeks have gone a little pink but he’s grinning. “Bucky, this is fantastic!” Then he looks down at himself and seems to realize just how filthy he is. “I, um, need to take a shower and put some clean clothes on before I join you,” he says sheepishly. 

Bucky leans in and kisses him, tasting dirt and ashes. “Go ahead. Food’s just about done but I can keep it warm for a few minutes.” Steve goes to his bedroom to fetch some clean clothes and then walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. Bucky paces around the kitchen as he listens to the sound of the shower and then begins obsessively checking the oven. 

This isn’t the first time he’s tried to do something nice for a date. In the past he’s bought flowers for girls, took them dancing and out to dinner, bought them drinks, walked them home but tried to steal kisses, even though he always tried to act like a gentleman. Somehow this is different. This isn’t just taking out a pretty girl because that’s what’s expected of him. Dating Steve feels way more real than anything he’s ever done with a woman and that both terrifies and excites Bucky.

Steve emerges from the bathroom ten minutes later, looking damp but clean, and wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Bucky takes the shepherd’s pie out of the oven and sets it in the middle of the table. He hands Steve the serving spoon and is pleasantly surprised to see his boyfriend’s eyes light up. “Did you make this yourself? It’s my favourite!” 

Bucky nods bashfully. “I did. It’s probably not as good as your ma’s but I hope it’s still edible.”

Steve reaches across the table and takes Bucky’s hand in his own. “Thank-you,” he says softly. 

“You’re welcome. Now eat before it gets cold,” Bucky replies. The two of them serve themselves and start to eat in companionable silence. Bucky feels some of the tension leave his body as he discovers that the shepherd’s pie is indeed edible and actually doesn’t taste that bad. He ends up feeling rather proud of himself when Steve tells him that it’s the best meal he’s had since waking up from the ice. “I bet you say that to all the guys,” he teases.

“You got me. It’s my best line,” Steve chuckles and then winces, clutching his side. “I guess I can’t laugh too hard until I’m healed up.”

Bucky feels a stab of worry inside of him again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine. I just pulled some of my stitches. Dr. Cho made sure I was okay but I’m supposed to take it easy for a few more days,” Steve reassures him. 

Bucky scowls disapprovingly. “They should have let you sit this one out.” 

Steve just shakes his head. “They needed me. The last time we fought Doctor Doom he brought an army of Doom bots with him so Tony was expecting it this time. We needed all hands on deck.” 

“Do I want to know what Doom bots are?” Bucky asks. 

“Doctor Doom’s got a bunch of robots he made to look like himself. And I thought Tony was vain,” Steve deadpans. 

Bucky grins at him. “He is but I don’t suppose I can talk.” 

“Nope, you really can’t,” Steve teases. 

The two of them fall into an easy conversation, polishing off the wine, shepherd’s pie, bread, and cheese between them. Steve insists on helping with the dishes even though Bucky protests. They stand side by side at the sink. Bucky washes and Steve dries. JARVIS changes the song and Bucky finds himself swaying along as it plays over the room’s speakers. 

_As long as this world_  
 _Keeps on spinnin' around_  
 _I'll keep hangin' on to this love that I found_  
 _I won't let go, cause I know_  
 _I have something that is true_  
 _And I will never ever quit loving you_

Steve notices him and puts down the dish towel he’s holding. “Can I have this dance?” he asks, holding out a hand. Bucky gives him a shy smile, drops the dish he’s washing, and wipes his hands off on the nearest towel.

“I’d love to.” He lets Steve link their hands together and pull him close. They rotate slowly, doing a basic box step, which is one of the few steps Steve can manage all right when he’s leading. He’s always been rather clumsy when it comes to dancing but Bucky doesn’t care. 

_There will be days_   
_When you get down_   
_And you've got to find ways to keep your feet on the ground_   
_Oh but honey, please remember_   
_Even when I'm feelin' blue_   
_That I will never ever quit loving you_

Bucky rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and lets himself be guided around the kitchen.

_And crazy times like these_   
_There's nothing like your love to put my soul at ease_   
_Cause every time you choose to come around_   
_This whole world seems to slow on down_   
_You just keep on huggin' and kissin'_   
_Oh and love me like you do_   
_And I will never ever quit loving you_

Steve hums along happily to the song. He tightens his arms around Bucky, pressing their bodies together as close as physically possible.

_You just keep huggin' and kissin'_   
_Oh and love me like you do_   
_And I will never ever quit loving you_

The two of them end the song by swaying together in one place on the kitchen floor. As the music dies away Bucky lifts his head and opens his eyes to find Steve looking at him with adoration. He leans up and kisses Steve gently. It’s over all too soon when they need to breathe but they remain rooted to the spot, foreheads touching. “I feel like I’m dreaming sometimes,” Steve murmurs. 

“Me too but it’s a damn good dream,” Bucky says. 

Steve grins and pecks him on the lips again. They finish the dishes and then curl up on the couch together to watch a movie with Steve stretched out and Bucky resting his head on his chest. It surprises him how utterly content he feels. For once it seems like everything is right in his world.


	31. Chapter 31

Bucky wakes up alone in bed. A quick check with JARVIS tells him that Steve has gone outside. “I hope he’s not running,” Bucky mutters as he climbs out of bed and pulls on some pants. 

“Captain Rogers assured me that he was only going for a walk.” 

Bucky heads into the kitchen to find Natasha sitting at the breakfast bar. “Hi Nat,” Bucky greets her casually. “Come to raid our fridge again?” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “I’m here to find out why I haven’t seen you in days Barnes. Looks like you’re still alive so you’d better have a good reason why you’re ignoring your friends.” 

Bucky grabs two mugs from the cupboard and fills them with coffee. He hands one to Natasha. “I told him.” 

“And? Come on, I want details,” she prompts. 

“You were right,” Bucky sighs. He fetches cream from the fridge and rummages in the cupboard to find the sugar. 

Natasha smirks. “Told you so.” 

Bucky takes a seat across from her after pulling some spoons from the drawer and begins adding sugar to his coffee. He ducks his head and smiles somewhat bashfully. “Things are still pretty new so we’re taking it slow.” 

“Have you slept together yet?” Natasha inquires and Bucky almost chokes on his coffee. 

“No, not yet. I mean-” he sputters, wiping coffee off his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Natasha takes a sip and eyes him sympathetically. “Do either of you even know anything about gay sex?” 

Bucky feels his face heating up and he shrugs. “Not really but I mean I’ve had sex before and it can’t be that much different, right?”

“You’re cute,” Natasha says. “You might want to do some research or ask me for help.” 

This time Bucky really chokes on his coffee. It takes several minutes of coughing for him to finally get his voice back and wheeze out, “What?”

Natasha looks undaunted. “The web’s full of misinformation and porn and I definitely wouldn’t suggest porn as a how-to manual for your first time. It’s not realistic. I can get you a book.” 

The blush on Bucky’s cheeks gets even deeper and he drops his eyes to the breakfast bar, trying not to show his embarrassment. He knows better than to argue with Natasha though. “Okay,” he agrees. He’s saved from any further conversation by the sound of the elevator. 

“Hey Nat,” Steve says as he enters the kitchen. “Don’t have any food on your floor again?”

“No, I came to see why Barnes has been avoiding me. Turns out he’s just been distracted, namely by you.” 

Steve wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulder and kisses him on the temple. “Sorry, I guess we should be a bit more social now that I’m on the mend.” 

Natasha finishes her coffee and hands the cup back to Bucky. “Movie night on my floor tonight at seven barring another world-ending catastrophe. I expect both of you to be there,” she says before heading to the elevator. 

Once she’s gone Steve leans in and kisses Bucky on the mouth. When he draws back he’s grinning. “What?” Bucky asks.

“I’m just thinking that it’s going to be a long time until seven o’clock.” Steve pats him on the shoulder and then goes to the fridge to pull out some eggs. 

“So?” 

“Sooo…make out session on the couch?” Steve asks shyly. His cheeks have turned that adorable shade of pink again and he can’t seem to look Bucky in the eye.

Bucky gets up from his seat at the breakfast bar and crosses the kitchen, coming up behind Steve as he puts the frying pan on the stove, and wrapping an arm around him. He kisses Steve’s neck. “Sounds good.” 

“After I shower and have breakfast.” 

Bucky nuzzles his cheek and feels just how heated his boyfriend’s face has become. “Something on your mind?” he teases. He laughs when Steve squirms in his arms. “Having dirty thoughts?” 

“Buck, you’re gonna make me burn my eggs, “ Steve whines.

Bucky grins. “Think I’ll take a shower after you’re done, maybe use some of that body wash you bought and rub it all over myself. Admit it, that turns you on, doesn’t it?”

Steve lets out an embarrassed laugh. “You’re going to tease me until I tell you, aren’t you?” 

“Come on,” Bucky wheedles. 

“All right. I was thinking about us showering together,” Steve admits. 

Bucky lets out a chuckle and nibbles on the shell of Steve’s ear. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes, sir has requested your presence in the penthouse,” JARVIS interrupts. 

Bucky doesn’t bother to hide his irritation. “This better be fucking important!” 

“I assure you it’s quite important.” 

“Tell Tony we’ll be there within an hour,” Steve says. He takes his eggs off the burner and turns off the stove. “Buck, you should go and shower while I eat.”

“One of these days I’m going to get you alone without being interrupted,” Bucky growls. 

Steve waves him away. “Promises, promises.” Bucky quickly showers, shaves, and dresses, then heads into the kitchen to make oatmeal and toast. He eats while Steve showers. When they’re both ready they get in the elevator and start ascending to the penthouse. 

Bucky takes advantage of their last few moments alone to lean in and kiss Steve. He’s encouraged when Steve’s arms wrap around his waist and he’s kissed back thoroughly. The two of them don’t notice the elevator’s arrived and the doors have opened until someone in the vicinity clears their throat and says, “Never figured you for an exhibitionist Cap.” 

Bucky and Steve break apart guiltily to find Tony standing in front of the elevator. “I, um…we were just…” Steve sputters. 

“Sucking face?” Tony supplies helpfully. Then he grins at them. “It’s about damn time. I was getting sick of watching you two dance around each other.” He walks away, motioning for them to follow him into the living room, and drops down in the nearest chair. Bucky and Steve take the sofa and wait for him to begin. “So I’ve had some ideas about taking care of the whole ‘Barnes is legally dead’ thing. Well, Pepper’s had some ideas. She just came back from a trip to D.C. and I’ve got her working on it. I just wanted to make you aware of what it might involve.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that?” Steve asks wearily. 

“Well at some point we’re going to stage a press conference to let the world know that Robocop here is alive. The problem is that it’s for sure going to result in a huge uproar. It’ll be considered a matter of international security so every politician on capital hill is going to have their panties in a wad. They’ll probably call for his arrest and want to schedule a bunch of hearings.”

“No,” Steve says firmly. “It’s not worth it.”

“What’s he supposed to do, spend the rest of his days playing Rapunzel for you in the tower? What kind of life is that?” Tony retorts. 

Steve opens his mouth again but he’s silenced by Bucky grabbing his hand. “Stevie, I want to do it. I need to make up for the wrongs I did.” 

“That wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything wrong because they tortured you and erased your memory to make you do what they wanted,” Steve says angrily. 

Bucky lifts their entwined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “I want the world to know what Hydra’s capable of. They might have read about it when Natasha dumped most of their files online but they haven’t seen living proof yet. I’m the most dangerous thing they ever created and they stopped at nothing to make sure I’d follow orders. We need to prevent that from happening again.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past Hydra to have another contingency plan. Blowing themselves up is just like taking a cyanide pill, only on a larger scale. There’s always more of them waiting to come out of the woodwork,” Tony says. 

Steve’s face is crumpled and it tears Bucky apart to see the heartbreak in his eyes. “I can’t lose you again.” 

Tony suddenly looks uncomfortable and Bucky thinks that it’s probably because he feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. “We’re pulling out all the stops for this Cap, I promise you.” 

“Thank-you. You’ve done so much for us,” Bucky says. 

“Any time Barnes.” Tony waves them off. 

Steve is silent in the elevator. Once they reach their floor he goes into his room and shuts the door. Unsure of what to do, Bucky paces the living room in agitation until he decides he can’t take it and knocks on Steve’s door. “Steve, can I come in?” When there’s no answer he opens the door a crack to see Steve lying curled up on the bed, hiding his face. 

Bucky climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around Steve’s waist. “Look at me, please,” he pleads. Steve moves his hands away from his face and Bucky can see the redness in his eyes and the tear streaks covering his cheeks. He mumbles something that Bucky can’t make out. Bucky brushes a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“I’m selfish Buck,” Steve says in a voice barely above a whisper. “I just found you again and all I want is to keep you here with me.” 

“I know Stevie but you’ve gotta let me make my own decision on this. I want to answer for what I’ve done as the Soldier. It’s something that’s important to me.” Bucky can feel his heart shatter as he takes in the sheer look of pain on his boyfriend’s face. 

“I’m not sacrificing you again. I did that once and look where it got us. Just this once I want to be selfish and not have to give up everything for the greater good. I’m tired of it!”

“I understand, I really do, but I’ve made my choice. I chose to follow you once and now I’m asking you to follow me,” Bucky says. 

Steve tries for a smile and fails, only managing a painful grimace as more tears leak from his eyes. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.” 

Bucky reaches out and gently wipes some of them away with his thumb. “Hey, whatever happens we’ll do it together.” He’s encouraged when the corners of Steve’s mouth turn up just a little. 

“I love you Bucky. I just want a little more time.” 

“I know Stevie and I love you too,” he murmurs. He leans in and kisses Steve on the forehead. Steve responds by putting a hand on the back of Bucky’s neck and directing his head downwards for a kiss on the mouth. Bucky’s glad that one of the effects of the serum is the ability to hold his breath for several minutes because Steve’s sure not letting him go. 

Steve doesn’t let up for one second, his kisses become more and more passionate until he finally breaks away and rolls them over on the bed. Bucky finds himself straddling an aroused Steve Rogers who seems to be content on groping him everywhere he can reach. Bucky tries grinding against him and Steve lets out a moan but it’s not pleasurable. “Owww,” he complains. 

Bucky quickly pulls away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” Steve reassures him. “I guess this doesn’t count as ‘taking it easy’.” 

“We don’t have to do anything right now. We can wait,” Bucky insists. 

Steve’s brow furrows in worry. “I don’t want to miss the opportunity. If we’re separated again -” 

“Hold on,” Bucky interjects. “The press conference isn’t even organized yet so we’ve got plenty of time. Shouldn’t your first time be more romantic anyway?” 

This draws a chuckle out of Steve. “You’re gonna buy me dinner first?”

Bucky grins at him. “I never sleep with anyone unless I woo them beforehand.” 

Steve dissolves into laughter and gives him a gentle shove. “Get wooing then,” he demands. 

Bucky leans down and kisses him gently once more. “Is that a good start?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry Buck. You’re right, we shouldn’t rush into anything.” 

“It’s okay. Right now we have all the time in the world.” Bucky fits himself into place at his boyfriend’s side, head resting on his chest. “JARVIS, tell everyone we don’t want to be disturbed. I’d actually like to cuddle without being interrupted for once.”

Steve wraps an arm around him to snuggle him even closer. “I like the way you think.”


	32. Chapter 32

In his session with Amy, Bucky tells her all about Steve and how they’re going steady now that they’ve admitted their feelings for each other. She laughs at the old fashioned term. “That’s great, James. You’ve accomplished a goal and it turned out wonderfully for you.” 

“I’m pretty surprised but I can’t complain,” Bucky jokes. 

“Has anything else improved? How about your sleeping?” 

Bucky groans and fidgets a bit. “Still having nightmares. I dreamed about Hydra again last night.” 

“Was it the fall from the train again?” Amy asks. 

“It was the one about them sawing off what was left of my arm. I woke up screaming again but Steve was able to talk me down from it.” 

Amy looks thoughtful at this. “Have you been keeping track of your dreams?” 

“I’ve been writing them down. I had to have JARVIS order me another book because there’s so many of them,” Bucky admits. 

“That’s good. I think you should start bringing them to your sessions so we can discuss them. You should probably work on practicing sleep hygiene again as well. You have the handout on it, right?” 

“Yes,” Bucky sighs. 

“It does help if you put it into practice, James,” Amy admonishes. 

Bucky feels terrible that he hasn’t worked harder at his efforts to have a nightmare free sleep and he promises that he’ll start over again, then report back with his progress. He feels slightly drained when he leaves the session. Steve is out when he returns to their floor and JARVIS informs Bucky that he’s gone up to the medical bay to get his stitches taken out. He heads into the kitchen to get a glass of water but stops short when he sees a cardboard box sitting on the breakfast bar with a note attached.

_James, I’ve filled this box full of things that might help with your introduction to the world of gay romance. Enjoy!_

_-Natasha_

Bucky groans as he pulls open the flaps of the box to peruse the contents. Trust Natasha to refuse to forget their conversation about sex. He sighs in relief when the first things he pulls out are several books. Most of them are titles about the LGBT community in general, seeming to recount the decades of history that Bucky’s missed out on, but two of them at the bottom of the pile seem to be about sex. He puts them aside to continue digging through the box. 

The next few items make him really glad that Steve isn’t in the room. He’s not sure that he could bear the embarrassment of his boyfriend watching as he unpacks various types of lubricant and a large array of sex toys that run from small to extremely large. Bucky picks up a giant blue vibrator and lets out a nervous giggle. He supposes that he’d better do some reading before he makes any attempt at using it. 

The sound of the elevator has him panicking and he begins hastily stuffing everything back in the box. He’s just got the books on top to hide the rest of the contents when Steve saunters in. “How are you doing?” Bucky asks. 

“Pretty well. Dr. Cho says next time she wants to use the new regeneration cradle she’s working on with Tony. It’ll be a lot faster than stitches.” Steve spies the box on the breakfast bar and starts towards it. “What’s in there?” 

“Oh, nothing. Nat just left me some books she thought I’d like to read.” Bucky scoops up the box before Steve can get near it and carries it off to his room where it gets stuffed into the back of his closet.

When he returns Steve’s looking at him suspiciously. Bucky can tell that he wants to ask about the contents of the box again but he doesn’t press the issue. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah, fine. Just came back from my session so maybe I’m a little out of sorts but I’m not dying or anything,” Bucky lies. He’s relieved when Steve takes the bait and pulls him in closer, brow furrowed in concern. 

“The nightmares again?” 

“Yeah. I just wish I could get a full night’s sleep for once,” Bucky mumbles and it’s the truth. He leans his head on Steve’s shoulder, heaving a sigh of impatience at his inability to get more than a few hours at a stretch. He feels one of Steve’s big hands cup the back of neck and squeeze gently.

“If you want to talk about it I’m here to listen,” Steve reminds him. 

“I know.” Bucky lifts his head and hits Steve with a sad puppy dog expression. “I don’t mean to hide things from you, I just like to think things through myself before I talk about them sometimes.” 

Steve gives him a gentle kiss and then leans their foreheads together. “It’s okay, you know. I just want you to know that I’m always here for you if you need me. Wow, that sounds corny.” 

“Hey, I know you’re a hopeless romantic,” Bucky teases. 

“I’ll show you romantic,” Steve declares and he swings Bucky into a dramatic dip before kissing him again. Bucky lets out a rather undignified shriek of surprise and starts shaking with laughter into the kiss. When Steve sets him upright again he says, “I have a date planned for us tonight but it’s a surprise.” 

Bucky grins at him. “Can you give me a hint?” 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?” Steve winks at him. Throughout the day Bucky keeps trying to find out what he’s got planned but Steve remains extremely tight-lipped. Not even giving him a shoulder massage or offering to do the lunch and supper dishes will get him to give out the barest suggestion of what they’re going to be doing. Eventually Bucky gets annoyed with not knowing and threatens to withhold kisses for a week but Steve just laughs. He knows it’s an empty threat. 

Finally it’s nearing evening and Steve tells Bucky he’s leaving their floor for awhile to get ready for their date. “There’s some clothes for you on your bed. You have an hour to get ready and then I’ll be back.” He disappears into the elevator, leaving behind a very frustrated Bucky. 

“JARVIS, can you tell me where I’m going tonight?” 

“Negative Sargent, Captain Rogers has asked that I not tell you until you are ready to leave.” 

“Worth a try,” Bucky sighs. In his bedroom he finds a garment bag on the bed that contains a three piece charcoal gray suit, a white shirt, and a dark red tie with a matching pocket square. Next to it is a box containing a pair of perfectly shined black leather shoes. For a few moments Bucky stands there gaping in surprise. The suit looks like nothing he’s ever had before. 

Back in Brooklyn he’d always been too poor to afford anything truly nice, spending most of his money on just keeping a roof over his and Steve’s heads. “JARVIS, did Steve pick this out?” he asks. 

“Captain Rogers chose the suit with assistance from Ms. Romanoff and myself.”

Bucky can’t help but feel a bit of a lump rising in his throat. Steve’s clearly planned something that he went to a lot of trouble for and he can’t wait to see what it is. “Sargent Barnes, may I suggest that you commence getting ready? You have precisely fifty-two minutes and eight seconds before Captain Rogers returns,” JARVIS says. 

Bucky goes into the bathroom and checks himself out in the mirror. He decides he’s looking a little scruffy so he showers and shaves, then spends a few moments preening in the mirror to make sure his hair looks good. Finally JARVIS tells him to hurry up so he dries off and puts on the suit. A quick check in the bedroom mirror nearly has him doubling over in shock because he can’t believe how good he looks. Steve definitely has great taste. “Should I call Captain Rogers?” JARVIS asks.

Bucky finally tears himself away from his reflection. “Yeah, I’m ready.” JARVIS instructs him to wait in the living room where he bounces up and down on the balls of his feet and smooths his hands down the lines of his clothing to flatten out any creases, both long forgotten gestures of nervousness that his muscle memory has retained. 

The elevator sounds and when Steve steps out Bucky feels his mouth go dry. He’s wearing a dark blue suit with black detailing, a white shirt, black bow tie, and white pocket square poking out of his breast pocket. In his hand is a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. “Hey Buck, you ready?” he asks, holding out the bouquet.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, suddenly feeling a little shy. He takes the flowers from Steve. “Thank-you. These are beautiful.” 

“There is a vase on the kitchen table,” JARVIS says helpfully. 

Bucky takes a few moments to position the roses in the vase and then turns to Steve. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where we’re going.”

“Nope,” Steve answers. He holds out his arm and escorts Bucky to the elevator. 

Bucky grins at Steve as it ascends. “You look stunning, you know.”

“Flattery is not going to make me tell you where we’re going,” Steve says but his cheeks are looking a little bit flushed again.

“I mean it though,” Bucky insists. “You look amazing in that suit.” 

“Thanks, and I have to say that Natasha and JARVIS have really good taste. You look like your old self again,” Steve replies. 

“I feel like it.” Bucky can’t help leaning in to steal a kiss from him. 

The elevator grinds to a halt and Steve reaches out to take his hand. The doors open to reveal the penthouse with a party that’s clearly in full swing. Bucky detects a distinct 1940’s vibe to the decorations, there’s music playing that would be at home in any dance hall, and the dress code for the night seems to be cocktail attire. 

As they step out of the elevator Bucky can’t help but gape at everything around them. “You set up all of this for me?” 

Steve takes in his expression and grins. “I did. We’re going dancing tonight, just like we used to, only this time we can dance together.” Bucky allows himself to be led into the middle of the dance floor that’s been set up. 

“I’m leading though. I know you can’t lead worth a damn, Rogers,” he teases. 

“Show me how?” Steve asks. Bucky walks him through some of the most basic steps and once he thinks Steve’s got the hang of it he lets him lead. Steve proves to be better than Bucky expected, using that enhanced super soldier brain of his to work out new combinations of moves and twirl them both around the dance floor. He only steps on Bucky’s feet once.

After a few songs they break apart and Bucky heads to the bar to get them some drinks. Steve spots Tony across the room and heads over to talk to him. Bucky finds Natasha behind the bar making herself a cosmopolitan. “Having fun?” she asks.

Bucky grins at her. “Yeah. I can’t believe that Steve went to all this trouble for me.” 

“Well it wasn’t very hard to persuade the rest of us to have a party,” she says. Bucky grabs a bottle of bourbon and starts to make two Manhattans. He expects Natasha to make fun of him for making the only cocktail he remembers from the forties but she merely raises an eyebrow and knocks back her own drink. “When you’re done with that we should have a dance.” 

Bucky finishes off the Manhattans and carries one over to Steve, who’s in conversation with Tony. “Look who it is, it’s the man of the hour!” a very drunk Tony Stark crows. 

Bucky hands Steve his drink. “Hi Tony. Thanks for setting this up.” 

“No problem, any excuse to have a party!” Tony shouts, waving his hand wildly and nearly spilling his drink. 

Steve catches his arm. “Maybe you should ease up a bit Tony. It’s still early.” He motions across the room to a tall woman with blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair wearing a black dress and heels. She strides across the room and takes Tony’s glass from him.

“All right Tony, time to sober up for a bit,” she says in a tone that sounds like she’s reprimanding a petulant child. 

“Awww Pep, you always take away my fun,” Tony complains. 

The woman wrinkles her nose at him. “I’m also the one has to deal with you when you’re hung over tomorrow.” 

“Bucky, I don’t think you’ve been introduced. This is Pepper Potts, Tony’s long-suffering girlfriend,” Steve says. 

Bucky takes her extended hand but instead of shaking it he kisses the back of her hand. “Pleased to meet you Miss Potts.” 

She lets out a giggle and Tony scowls in mock indignation. “Hey, hands off Barnes! Go hit on Natasha or something.”

That reminds Bucky that he owes her a dance. “I’ll be back in a bit. Nat wants me to dance with her,” he says and kisses Steve on the cheek. He saunters off and finds her trying to drag a very reluctant Bruce onto the dance floor. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natasha presses him. 

Bruce just looks skeptical. “Have you seen me dance? Not happening! Bucky, back me up here.” 

“I’ll volunteer,” Bucky says. 

“Fine,” Natasha huffs. “I don’t know why I take you anywhere Bruce.” She lets Bucky lead her out onto the dance floor where a slow song is playing. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Bucky quips. 

Natasha lets out a snort of laughter. “Hardly. Bruce just doesn’t know how to have fun sometimes. How about you and Steve? Have you read any of that information I sent you?” 

“Not yet. I don’t want Steve to see it,” Bucky confesses. 

Natasha rolls her eyes at him. “You two are so adorably embarrassed about anything to do with sex. If you’re going to sleep with him you should probably discuss it.”

“We’re not there yet. We’re just taking things slow,” Bucky mutters, feeling his cheeks start to heat up again. 

“Just talk to him. He’s probably being as shy or worse than you are about the whole thing given that I don’t think he’s ever slept with anyone,” Natasha says. 

Bucky raises an eyebrow at her. “How do you know that?” 

“It’s not hard to figure out. He gets so awkward when anyone brings up sex.” 

“Fine, I promise I’ll talk to him,” Bucky sighs.

Natasha grins playfully at him. “You should probably do it soon. Tony’s got it in his head that the two of you are going at it like rabbits and he said something about a ‘surprise’ to end your date tonight.” 

“Oh no, I really hope he didn’t do anything crazy,” Bucky groans. 

Natasha giggles, then lets slip, “No, nothing like you’re thinking. Pepper and I managed to talk him out the cake, the strippers, and the flashmob so I think he got the message and scaled it down by quite a bit.” 

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Bucky pleads.

“Don’t worry, Pepper said she’d oversee whatever he decided on and make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.” 

The song ends and Bucky pulls away, excusing himself to find Steve again while Natasha heads towards the bar for another drink. He finds him attempting an awkward shuffle with a drunken Maria Hill. Steve gives him a look that clearly reads __help me__ soBucky taps her on the shoulder. “Can I cut in?” 

“I’d better dance with Bucky again. I promised him a night of dancing,” Steve excuses himself. 

Maria steps away and pats Bucky on the shoulder. “He’s all yours.” 

“Thanks for that,” Steve says the minute she’s gone. 

“Hey, I wanted to dance with my best guy again. I’ve got plenty of moves to show you,” Bucky replies. 

The two of them spend the rest of the evening together either dancing or drinking, even though neither of them are able to get drunk. Bucky wishes that he could at least get buzzed but it seems the serum’s too efficient at removing the alcohol from his bloodstream. Finally somewhere around two a.m. the party begins to wind down and people start to trickle out via the elevator in small groups. 

“Had enough for tonight?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, I’m tired. We should go back to our floor,” Bucky concedes. 

They get in the elevator with Bruce and Natasha, who seem to be holding hands. Bucky raises an eyebrow at her. She smirks back at him and looks pointedly at Bucky, then at Steve. When the elevator stops on Bruce’s floor she gets off and follows him, tossing a quick “Goodnight,” over her shoulder. 

Steve and Bucky get off on their floor and each head to their respective rooms to get ready for bed. Bucky hasn’t even gotten his jacket off when he hears a yelp of surprise from Steve’s room, sending him running in on complete instinct to protect Steve from whatever’s offended him. “What’s the matter?” 

Steve’s standing in the middle of the room with a small card clutched in his hand. “Tony,” is all he says. Bucky takes the card from him and reads it.

_To Cap and Barnes. Hope you have a nice end to your date tonight!_

_-Tony_

Bucky surveys the room and immediately sees what Tony’s done. The bed is covered in scattered red rose petals, there’s champagne chilling in a bucket on the nightstand with two glasses nearby, and about a dozen battery operated candles are spread throughout the room, giving it a warm glow. “Really Tony?” Bucky groans. 

Steve sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed as though the rose petals might burn him and starts untying his shoes. “Um, I guess we’re sleeping in your room tonight,” he mumbles. 

Bucky decides that Natasha’s right and he’s going to have to be the one to begin the conversation about sex. He sits down beside Steve. “Stevie, look at me.” Steve’s head snaps up and his cheeks are burning red with embarrassment. Bucky doesn’t let that deter him though, reaching out to catch Steve’s hand in his. “Thanks for tonight. I had a wonderful time. It reminded me of the dance halls we used to go to.” 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it,” Steve says shyly. 

Bucky gently caresses Steve’s cheek with his free hand. “You were a real gentlemen tonight, you know. You did everything but walk me to my door.” Steve’s flush gets even deeper but he manages to hold Bucky’s gaze. Bucky takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Do you want more?” 

Steve pulls away abruptly. “More? You…you mean...?” 

“Yeah. I know we’re taking it slow and we don’t have to do anything we don’t want to do but I just…some day I want to…take that next step with you,” Bucky fumbles, hating himself for not being able to express himself clearly. He’s the experienced one. He should be able to talk about sex without acting like some blushing virgin. 

To his surprise, Steve gives him a gentle smile, gazing at him openly with love. “I’d like that. I’ve been doing some, uh, research when you go to your sessions with Dr. Sullivan. I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to push you.” 

Bucky laughs with relief. “Natasha’s the one who’s been pushing me. That box of books she sent this morning was way more than just books. Let me show you.” He retrieves the box from his closet and sets it down on the floor of Steve’s bedroom. Steve looks at the books with interest, setting aside one that he wants to read later, and then begins pulling the other things out of the box.

“Wow, she really went all out,” he remarks. 

Bucky grins. “That’s Nat for you. I don’t think she has any shame.” 

“She can be pretty blunt about things,” Steve agrees. He starts putting things back in the box and then closes the lid. “I want to go further with you but not all the way yet. Is that okay?” 

Bucky grins. “Yeah, works for me.” He leans over and starts kissing Steve. Things begin to get more heated and Bucky’s hands roam under his jacket, feeling the warmth of Steve’s body through his thin cotton shirt. He feels Steve’s hands gripping the lapels of his suit.

When they draw back for air he tugs on the fabric. “Can I take this off?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. Steve tugs his jacket off of his arms and tosses it over the side of the bed, then divests himself of his shoes and socks. Bucky takes his cue and does the same before removing his tie and tossing it onto the pile with the rest of their clothing. He lays back on the bed, motioning for Steve to join him. 

Steve fumbles with his bow tie and seems to be having a hard time unknotting it. “Damn it! Natasha tied this for me and I don’t know how it works.” He scowls when Bucky starts to snicker, finally letting out a full-on guffaw at Steve’s struggle. 

“Here, let me,” Bucky says. He sits up, reaches out, and deftly unties the bow tie. 

“How’d you do that?” 

“I just pulled and it came loose.” Bucky lays back on the bed again, pulling Steve with him. 

“Show off,” Steve mutters before leaning in for another kiss. Within moments they’re making out again and Bucky’s beginning to get so aroused that it feels like his entire body’s on fire. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced with any girl and it’s a heady feeling. Steve seems to feel the same. He trails kisses from Bucky’s cheek down to his neck, then moves his lips over the adams apple.

“Fuck!” Bucky gasps. 

“Wanna undress you,” Steve pants, fingers fumbling with the bottom buttons of Bucky’s shirt. Bucky helps him make quick work of it by unbuttoning from the top, then slips it off and tosses it over the side of the bed. In similar fashion they manage to rid Steve of his own shirt. His hands slide down to Bucky’s belt buckle. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, I want it all off,” Bucky says. He watches with heavy-lidded eyes as Steve positions himself between his legs and unbuckles his belt. He lifts his hips and Steve yanks his pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, tossing it onto the floor. For a moment he doesn’t move. Bucky feels Steve’s gaze raking across his body and suddenly he feels very exposed. “Steve?” 

“You’re beautiful,” Steve rasps.

“So are you.” Bucky sits up and pops the button on Steve’s pants, opening the fly to find that his boyfriend isn’t wearing any underwear. His look of complete surprise causes Steve to chuckle. 

“I hate underwear,” he explains. 

Bucky looks at him questioningly. “You didn’t back in the forties.” 

“Let me re-phrase that. I hate modern underwear. I’ve tried just about every kind in existence and none of it is comfortable. I just can’t get used to it,” Steve complains. 

“Don’t tell me you go naked under the suit!” Bucky sounds completely scandalized, even to his own ears. 

“Tony made me an under-suit that’s kind of like the union suit I used to have when I’d get cold in the winter. It’s comfortable but apparently it’s not for every day use.”

“You’re just full of surprises tonight,” Bucky quips. He yanks Steve’s pants down to his knees. Steve kicks them off and then crawls up to lie next to Bucky. He looks absolutely beautiful lying there spread out with a few rose petals sticking to his flushed skin. Bucky reaches out and gently caresses his cheek. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he murmurs. 

Steve answers him with a kiss. His hand roams down over Bucky’s chest, stopping to tweak one of his nipples along the way, and then grasps his cock. “Oh Fuck!” Bucky moans. Steve starts slowly jerking him off and it’s better than any of the hand jobs he’s ever received from girls over the years. 

Bucky reaches out with his flesh hand and starts to give Steve the same treatment while they trade sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He thrusts his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth and is rewarded with a loud moan. “God that’s amazing,” Steve says breathlessly before Bucky claims his mouth again.

Bucky doesn’t manage to last very long. It’s been over seventy years since he’s experienced any sort of sexual pleasure and he ends up coming all over Steve’s fist and his own stomach with a shout, eyes rolling back in his head as his back arches. When he comes to again Steve’s grinning at him. “Wow,” he says. 

Once Bucky’s come back to himself he keeps jerking Steve in slow, deliberate motions until he’s moaning Bucky’s name over and over, then erupts into Bucky’s hand, hips stuttering. The two of them collapse onto their backs, both breathing hard from the exertion. “That was incredible,” Bucky manages to choke out. 

Steve props himself up on his elbow and presses a gentle kiss to Bucky’s neck. “You’re telling me.” He looks absolutely gorgeous with his hair mussed, skin flushed a delicate pink, and lips swollen from kissing. 

Bucky sits up. “We should get cleaned up. We’re both going to need a shower.” 

“You can go first,” Steve offers.

“Actually, I was thinking we could do it together,” Bucky says.

Steve grins at him and all pretense of his earlier bashfulness is gone. “Sounds like fun.”


	33. Chapter 33

Bucky wakes up to find that Steve’s just returned from his morning run. They exchange a good morning kiss and then Steve heads to the bathroom to shower while Bucky decides to start on breakfast. He’s just taken the frying pan out of the cupboard when JARVIS says, “Sargent Barnes, Miss Potts has requested that you and Captain Rogers visit the penthouse for breakfast this morning. She has an urgent matter to discuss with you.” 

Bucky knows what it is in an instant. It can only be about the upcoming press conference. He tells JARVIS that they’ll be up as soon as they’re dressed and starts hunting for some clean clothes to throw on, settling for jeans and a sweatshirt. When Steve emerges from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel, Bucky relays the message. He gives Steve a quick kiss and a friendly pat on the bottom before going to wait for him in the kitchen. 

They find Pepper waiting for them in the penthouse, looking every inch the powerful CEO that she is in an off-white suit with heels that probably cost more than everything Bucky owns put together. He’s struck by the idea that she’s probably the classiest woman he’s known since Peggy Carter. “Good morning Steve. And James, how nice to meet you again.” 

"Good morning Miss Potts. Please, call me Bucky,” Bucky says politely. 

She gives him a smile before sitting down in of the penthouse chairs and motions that he and Steve should do the same. “You can call me Pepper. No one uses my real name either. Tony’s not here yet but breakfast was just delivered so we might as well start before it gets cold. JARVIS, you reminded him of our meeting, right?” 

“Yes Miss Potts. Sir has informed me that he will be arriving shortly.” 

Bucky’s amazed by the breakfast spread on the coffee table. There’s varying kinds of bagels and cream cheese, fruit, hard boiled eggs, yogurt, and breakfast sausages. Bucky takes some of everything because he’s starving and he knows that Steve probably feels the same, especially after his run. Pepper seem content to stick to black coffee and fruit.

“I’ve got everything set up for the press conference. It’s set for two weeks from today,” she tells them. 

Bucky can see Steve’s face fall but then he quickly tries to hide it. He’s about to say something comforting when they’re interrupted by Tony’s arrival. “Sorry everyone, l was doing something incredibly important,” he announces, not sounding apologetic at all. He drops into the chair beside Pepper and starts filling his plate.

Pepper just sighs and continues on. “As I was saying, the press conference is set up. We’re going to get Steve to speak first because public opinion of him is pretty high right now and they should find him trustworthy. He’ll give a quick summary of events, starting from when you met on the bridge, leading up to the present. Then we’ll bring you out, James, and we’ll open the floor for questioning. We want to put a heavy emphasis on the fact that you were imprisoned and tortured by Hydra. I know it’s going to be hard for you to talk about some of these things publicly but it’s important that people see you as a human being instead of just Hydra’s killing machine.”

“Are you going to make them tell everyone that they finally got over whatever was holding them back from admitting their feelings? I don’t think they can go more than two seconds without eye-fucking each other,” Tony interjects. 

“That’s up to the two of you,” Pepper says. 

Bucky looks over at Steve, who’s chasing a grape aimlessly around his plate with his fork. “What do you think Steve?” 

Steve stabs at the grape and it rolls to the edge of his plate and nearly falls off. “They’re going to ask a lot of invasive questions, aren’t they?” 

“You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to,” Pepper tells him.

“Steve,” Bucky says softly. He reaches out and gently grasps Steve’s free hand. “If you want all of this to stop just say the word. I can’t do this without you and if you’re not on board I won’t go through with it.” 

Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand and finally meets his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you because this has to be your choice. But you’re right; I should be more supportive. I’m just a little scared.” 

“If you weren’t I’d say you were crazy. We’ll face this the same way we always do: together,” Bucky reassures him. 

“Okay,” Steve agrees. “Maybe we should just lay it all out. Tony’s probably right about us not being able to hide our relationship. I know I’ll end up doing something to give it away and everyone knows I’m a terrible liar.”

Bucky nods. “I’m okay with that. No questions that are too, um, intimate though.” 

Tony lets out a snort of laughter and almost chokes on his coffee. “You two are so adorably old fashioned. If you haven’t noticed sex is pretty much ****everywhere**** these days. You can go on live tv and talk about your favourite fetish and nobody bats an eye!” 

Pepper rolls her eyes. “Just because you’re okay with broadcasting the fact that you like to wear my shoes in bed doesn’t mean that other people are comfortable with giving information about their sex life to the public.” 

“Wait, what?” Bucky asks.

“They make my legs look nice,” Tony says defensively. 

Steve makes a disgusted face. “I don’t want to know.” 

“Never mind,” Pepper sighs. “If anyone asks you anything you don’t want to answer just tell them it’s not appropriate and move on.”

Steve looks worried. “What about after the press conference? What happens then?”

“We prepare for the worst but hope for the best. I’ve got my legal team working on a defense already,” Tony says. 

“I know you’re worried Steve but we’re going to take care of everything we have control over. Nothing’s going to be left to chance,” Pepper reassures him.

Bucky glances over at Steve and sees the worry in face start to smooth over. There’s something about the way Pepper speaks to them that’s comforting, almost in a motherly way. “Thanks Pepper. I don’t know how I can ever repay you and Tony for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Don’t mention it. We take care of our own here,” Tony says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

As they finish breakfast the conversation turns to other more pleasant subjects and Bucky’s glad to see Steve smile a few times but when they return to their own floor he’s very quiet. He goes into his studio but leaves the door open. Bucky finds him prepping a canvas to paint. “Steve, you okay?”

“I’m fine, Buck. I just want to do some painting by myself for a bit.” 

Bucky heads back to the living room and turns on the tv. He lounges on the couch watching episodes of a light-hearted home decorating show until he realizes that it’s nearing lunch. Steve still hasn’t emerged. Bucky makes some sandwiches and takes a plate into the studio where he finds his boyfriend working intently. Not wanting to break Steve’s concentration, Bucky sets it down on the nearest surface and gives him a nod in greeting before going back to the kitchen to eat his own. 

After lunch Bucky pays a visit to Natasha and finds her having tea with Bruce. She greets him with a hug and then asks about Steve. “He’s a bit out of sorts.” 

“About what?” Bruce inquires. 

Bucky outlines Tony’s plan and Steve’s nervousness about the upcoming press conference while Natasha pours him a cup of tea. It turns out to be peppermint. “Typical Steve,” she mutters. “Just bottle everything up inside and hope it’ll go away.” 

_“Thanks Buck, but I can get by on my own.”_

_“The thing is you don’t have to. I’m with you to the end of the line, pal.”_ __

“Steve’s always been stubborn like that. I usually just give him some space until he’s ready to talk to me but he hasn’t yet and I’m worried. I don’t want to go through with the press conference if he doesn’t want to do it,” Bucky says.

Bruce pours himself another cup of tea and adds some sugar to it. “Before Steve found you again it wasn’t hard to see that he was lonely. We tried to help but none of us know what it’s like to wake up seventy years in the future and find out that everything’s changed. When he found out you were alive he thought he could get back a piece of his old life.” 

Natasha nods in agreement. “He said he’s terrified of losing you but it’s probably deeper than that. You’re the only one he’s got left who didn’t age or die.” 

“I wish he’d just talk to me instead of shutting himself up in his studio,” Bucky sighs. 

“You need to ask him what he’s most worried about and try to work through that. If the press conference is going to be successful you need him to be a hundred percent on board,” Bruce says. 

“I’ll talk to him again tonight.” When Bucky takes the elevator back to their floor he finds Steve exactly where he left him. He hesitantly pokes his head into the room. “Stevie?” 

Steve looks up from the canvas but his expression is unreadable. “Not yet Buck. I know you want to talk to me but I need to finish this.” 

“Okay. When you’re ready I’m here.” Bucky spends the rest of the afternoon alternating between reading and watching tv until it’s nearing dinner time. He takes stock of the ingredients they have on hand and, with the help of JARVIS, he manages to make a halfway decent lasagna and a salad. He delivers a plate to Steve and takes the empty one from lunch back to the kitchen. 

Bucky feels a bit bereft as he eats alone, keenly aware of Steve’s absence. He cleans up the dishes and then tries to do some reading on his tablet. After a few minutes he realizes that he can’t concentrate, having read the same paragraph three times without absorbing it. Heaving a sigh of annoyance, he wanders into the bathroom and contemplates taking a shower. One look at the jacuzzi tub gives him a different idea though. 

Neither he nor Steve ever use the tub, preferring to shower instead, but Bucky realizes that the two of them could easily fit in it together and he resolves to try pestering Steve one more time. When he enters the studio again he finds Steve cleaning his paintbrushes. He must have gotten overheated because he’s taken his shirt off and tossed it over a stack of canvases in the corner. Bucky leans against the doorway and waits for him to turn around. 

“I know you’re there. Come and see my painting,” Steve says flatly. It’s a landscape that looks suspiciously like the Austrian Alps and in the background is a mountainside with a train coming around the bend. Steve turns around and finally looks Bucky in the eyes. “I know,” he mutters. Bucky takes in the splatters of paint on Steve’s chest and arms but decides not to comment. 

Instead he reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand. “Come on.” He leads Steve down the hall and into the bathroom. 

“What are we doing, Buck?” 

“We’re going to take a bath,” Bucky says. He turns on the water, adjusts the temperature until it’s warm enough, and begins to hunt in the bathroom cabinets for some bubble bath. He finds a bottle that’s strawberry scented and dumps part of it into the tub. Then he pulls his shirt over his head and lets it drop to the floor.

Steve smirks at him, leaning against the bathroom countertop and seemingly enjoying the free show. Bucky adds his socks to the pile, then unzips his jeans and steps out of them, yanking his boxers down as well. He doesn’t feel self-conscious but the way Steve’s looking at him with hunger in his eyes makes him shiver despite the warmth of the room. 

Bucky strips him out his jeans and then leads him towards the tub. It’s nearly full now so Bucky turns off the water and gets in. When he’s gotten himself situated he motions for Steve to join him. “I don’t think we’re going to fit,” Steve says. 

“Yes we will. Come and sit in my lap.” Steve reluctantly steps into the tub and lowers himself down, dropping into the space between Bucky’s legs. He wraps an arm around Steve’s middle and guides him to lean backwards with his back firmly against Bucky’s chest. “Just relax.” He grabs a clean washcloth from the side of the tub and begins to wipe the paint smears from Steve’s body. “Stevie, you know I don’t blame you for my fall, right?” 

“I know.” Steve’s voice is small and weak. 

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself. It wasn’t your fault and I don’t hold you responsible for anything that happened to me.” 

“I should have gone after you,” Steve says. 

Bucky runs the washcloth gently down Steve’s left arm, collecting bits of blue and gray. “No, you had to finish the mission. You couldn’t let Zola escape.” 

“None of it made any difference though,” Steve says bitterly. “When I crashed the Valkyrie I thought I was saving the world. I thought I’d die and I’d get to see you again. Then I woke up and everything was different yet still the same. Hydra still existed but everyone I cared about had gotten old or died and the world had become a really strange place to me. I was so alone until that day on the bridge.” 

“You weren’t alone. You found new friends and they had your back when I couldn’t.”

“It’s different with you Buck. You’re the only one who remembers all of the same things I do. Nobody else here really knows what it was like before the serum. You can remember the winter of thirty-six when we had no heat and we just about froze to death, you know that my ma used to put newspapers in my shoes to keep out the damp, you’re the only other person who remembers the time we had to get a ride back to Brooklyn in that freezer truck.” 

“Because we spent all of our money on hot dogs and I was trying to impress a girl,” Bucky chimes in. He drags the washcloth over Steve’s right arm, swiping away a splotch of green. 

Steve lets out a watery chuckle. “When I saw you on the bridge and you didn’t know me it was like a knife to the heart but I knew that I had a second chance after you pulled me out of the river. If that gets taken away from me I don’t think I’d survive.” 

Bucky leans down and gently kisses the juncture where Steve’s neck and shoulder meet. “I don’t want you to go through that. Nothing’s more important to me than you, Steve, and if you don’t want the press conference to go ahead that’s okay.” 

“I told you I couldn’t ask that of you,” Steve says so quietly that Bucky’s super soldier hearing almost doesn’t pick it up. 

“Ask me. For once in your life stop being so noble and self-sacrificing and ask for what you want. Say the word and I’ll have Tony cancel the press conference,” Bucky urges. He drags the washcloth down Steve’s chest, taking the last of the paint away in one pass. He can feel Steve’s exhale of breath. 

“No, Tony was right. This should be your choice. I just don’t know how you can be so calm about it!” 

“After what Hydra put me through a press conference is nothing. Plus I trust our friends to help us. We don’t have to be alone in this,” Bucky says. 

“Promise you won’t leave me. Whatever happens we stay together, even if that means I have to abandon everything and run away with you.”

“I promise I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure we don’t get separated again,” Bucky declares. He can sense rather see Steve smiling. “I love you Stevie.” 

“Love you too,” Steve replies. Bucky gently runs a hand down Steve’s chest and ghosts his fingers over the set of washboard abs below it, trailing down to grasp his cock. “Bucky!” 

“Wanna make you feel good,” Bucky rumbles. He nibbles on the shell of Steve’s ear, grazing his teeth over it and grinning when he feels a shudder go through Steve’s body. 

“Fuck,” Steve gasps as Bucky continues to coax his cock to life.

Bucky slides his hand to the end of Steve’s cock and gently rubs his thumb in small circles over the tip, then massages the frenulum. He’s rewarded with Steve’s hips rocketing up as a loud moan tears from his throat. Water splashes over the side of the tub but they pay it no mind. Bucky tightens his metal arm around Steve’s waist to keep him in place, fitting their bodies as close together as physically possible while he maintains a steady pace. “You like that?” 

The only thing Steve seems to be capable of is a string of curse words mixed with iterations of Bucky’s name. He slides his hand down the shaft onto Steve’s balls, gently alternating between cupping, squeezing, and fondling them with his fingers, causing Steve to groan loudly. “God, Bucky!” 

Bucky moves back to gently stimulate the tip of Steve’s cock again, making an “o” with his finger and thumb and sliding it up and down slowly. “Buck, I need…fuck! Want you to…oh!” 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” 

“Faster, faster, faster….ah!” Steve moans as Bucky suddenly grasps his cock and begins jerking it at a near-punishing pace. He arches his back, hips lifting up from Bucky’s lap while he lets out a stream of extremely graphic swear words.

Bucky leans down, attaching his mouth to the side of Steve’s neck and scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin there. Steve lets out a shout and cums, spilling over Bucky’s hand and into the bathwater, then collapses back against him, going boneless and limp, breathing hard. Bucky lets go of Steve’s cock and dips his hand into the bathwater to wash it. 

He waits until Steve seems to be more alert before telling him, “Come on Stevie, we need to get out.”

“Don’t wanna move,” Steve mutters drowsily.

“There’s cum in the water.” Bucky releases his arm from around Steve’s middle and prods at him gently. 

“Okay, point taken.” Steve heaves himself up and out of the tub. Bucky follows and then unplugs the drain before herding Steve into the shower where they can actually get clean. Steve looks like he’s about to fall asleep on his feet so Bucky washes both of them down quickly and then uses soft fluffy towels to dry them off with. 

“Come on sleepyhead. Let’s go to bed.” Once in his bedroom Steve pulls back the sheets and drops into his side of the bed before covering himself up again. “Not going to put on some clothes?” Bucky asks. 

Steve shakes his head. “Nope. Come to bed.” Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. He slides in next to his boyfriend and has JARVIS turn off the lights.


	34. Chapter 34

Bucky drops into a chair across from Amy and groans. “I really don’t feel like doing this today. I’m a bit stressed right now.” 

“What’s troubling you, James?” she asks.

Bucky explains about the upcoming press conference and then begins talking about Steve. “He’s not taking it too well. I know he’s afraid of losing me but this is something that I need to do.” 

“Why do you feel like that?” Amy asks. 

“I don’t have any way of atoning for the things I did as the Soldier. I figure that if I expose the horrors of Hydra that maybe I can do some good somehow. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life in hiding.” 

“That’s very noble of you but it seems that you may be neglecting how Steve feels.” 

Bucky sighs. “I’ve offered to cancel the press conference but he doesn’t want me to. I think it’s because he knows that I’d do it if he asked.” 

“From what I’ve seen of Captain Rogers I’d say that he has an issue with attending to his own needs. He tends to put others ahead of himself,” Amy observes.

“You’re telling me,” Bucky grumbles. 

Amy crosses her legs at the ankle and taps her pen smartly against the clipboard in her lap. “Have you two talked about your feelings toward this conflict?” 

“Yeah, we have. Steve doesn’t want me to do it but he’s being supportive of me making my own choices.” 

“James, do you know what the five stages of grief are?” Amy queries. 

Bucky shakes his head. “Not a clue.” 

“When people are grieving they go through the five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. It seems that Steve may be grieving what he thinks will be another loss and is in the denial stage right now. You need to have a very serious discussion about this to decide if the two of you want to go ahead with the press conference, postpone it to a later date, or cancel it altogether,” Amy explains.

“Will do.” When Bucky leaves the session he immediately searches the tower for Steve. JARVIS tells him that he’s down in the gym working out. When Bucky heads down there he finds him beating on one of Tony’s reinforced punching bags, an angry expression on his face.

“Steve?” Bucky calls. 

He turns around and immediately pastes a smile onto his face. “Oh hey Buck.”

“Don’t do that,” Bucky says.

“Don’t do what?” 

Steve’s giving him the puppy dog eyes again and it makes Bucky feel pissed off. “Pretending you’re okay when you really think everything’s going to shit,” he snaps. 

Steve stalks over to him and crowds into his personal space until they’re close enough that they could almost kiss. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t make decisions for you, even if they’re ones that are going to get you killed. All I can do is watch and feel helpless, just like I did on the train!”

Of course it’s about the train. Every problem in their relationship seems to come back to it and Bucky feels anger boil over inside of him. “How long are you going to let this rule our lives, Steve? At some point we have to move past that or we’re not going to last very long!” 

“What, you think I should just forget about it? That’s easy for you to say. You don’t know what it was like!” Steve shouts. 

“That’s not what I mean. You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself. I sure as hell don’t hold it against you and you shouldn’t either. You’re just torturing yourself,” Bucky insists. Steve lowers his head and mumbles something that he can’t make out. “What?” 

“I can’t do it again,” Steve says, louder this time. “You died and it was like…it was like somebody had ripped my heart out of my chest. I tried to drink the pain away but the serum wouldn’t let me get drunk. All I got was one afternoon of sitting in a bombed-out bar with Peggy and then it was time to get on with the mission and save the world. I thought it would be all right though. I thought I was going to die and then I’d see you again. Didn’t really work out, did it?” 

Bucky feels the anger drain out of himself, to be replaced by sympathy. He reaches out and gently touches Steve’s cheek. “You didn’t have enough time to grieve, did you?” he says softly. 

Steve shakes his head, still purposely not looking Bucky in the eye. “I thought I wouldn’t have to. Then I woke up and everything was different. I didn’t know what to do.” His voice comes out strangled, making him seem small to Bucky for the first time since the serum changed his body. 

“Didn’t SHIELD try to help you with that?” Bucky asks.

“No. They had some people spend time showing me how the new technology worked and made sure that I had a place to live but the rest I had to do myself. I felt so lost that I just…I just threw myself back into fighting. It was the only thing I knew how to do.” 

Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close, guiding his head down onto one shoulder and stroking through golden strands of hair with his flesh hand. “You don’t have to deal with this all alone. There’s no shame in asking for help.” Steve’s only reply is a muffled sob as he shakes in Bucky’s arms. “Stevie, you need to talk to someone about this before you fall apart. Why don’t I ask Doctor Sullivan if she can help? She’ll know what to do,” Bucky murmurs. 

“O-okay,” Steve hiccups. 

Bucky keeps talking, hoping that his reassurances will calm his boyfriend. “It’s not easy but it gets better and I’ll be with you every step of the way, I promise.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve whimpers against his shoulder. 

“You don’t have to be, sweetheart.” 

Steve pulls away and finally looks Bucky in the eye. His face is flushed red, his eyes are bloodshot, and a stray tear runs down the side of his cheek. Bucky gently brushes it away. “I am though. When you fell Peggy said I should ‘allow you the dignity of your choice’ and it’s something I should be doing now. Instead I’ve just been trying to bury my head in the sand and pretend the press conference isn’t coming up.” 

“We’re canceling it,” Bucky declares, ignoring the way that Steve shakes his head. “We don’t have to put it off indefinitely, just for awhile until we can sort some stuff out.” 

“No, I want to go ahead with it. I don’t want to hide. We’re going to get through this together and I’m going to make sure that you walk away a free man. There’s so many things outside of the tower that I want us to be able to do together and the only way to get to that point is to go through with the press conference and whatever fallout happens because of it,” Steve says fiercely. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky searches his face, hoping that this isn’t just more of Captain America’s posturing to hide Steve Rogers. 

But Steve’s got that defiant look in his eyes; the same one he had when he was small and someone told him that he was too frail to do something, often resulting in him needing to be rescued after his stubbornness backed him into a corner. “I’m sure.” 

Bucky sighs internally, knowing that there’s no way to talk Steve out of it now so he settles for, “You’ll tell me if you change your mind though, right?”

Steve nods and holds up a hand. “I promise. In fact I swear on my ma’s grave.”

That’s as serious a promise as he’s going to get so Bucky lets it drop. He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist and drags him in for a kiss. When they part he says, “Ugh, you’re all sweaty. You should go shower so we can go upstairs for lunch.”

Steve smiles at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Gonna join me?” 

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice. He follows Steve into the locker room, strips down, leaving all of his clothes on a nearby bench, and gets into the shower. Steve adjusts the temperature and the water goes from a mildly unpleasant lukewarm to comfortably hot. Bucky grabs the soap and starts running it over Steve’s chest, gliding down to his narrow waist. “I remember when you were a skinny little nothing. I could have held your waist in one hand. Still can,” he says,, splaying one of his hands across Steve’s side.

Steve grins at him. “Erskine said the serum enhances what’s already there. It made me bigger in all the right places but left all the good parts the same.”

“Liar. It didn’t fix that annoying stubborn streak you’ve got,” Bucky shoots back.

“You like it.” Steve shoves Bucky against the shower wall to devour his mouth. He responds with a soft moan, letting Steve have what he wants with no resistance even though a part of him is whispering that anyone could walk in and hear them at any moment. 

That thought is whisked away when Steve begins to kiss down the side of his neck. Bucky claws at his boyfriend’s back then slides his hands down to knead Steve’s perfect ass. He pulls away and groans, “God, Bucky!” 

Bucky grins at him. “What do you want, Stevie? Want me to touch you?”

Steve suddenly looks a little unsure. “There’s something I want to try,” he blurts out. “I’ve been reading one of those books Natasha gave us and I think you’d like it.” 

Bucky lets out a chuckle. “Whatever it is, go for it.” Steve gives Bucky one last kiss and drops to his knees on the tiled floor. 

“Oh fuck!” Bucky yells as he feels a warm wet mouth engulf his cock. Steve bobs his head back and forth while encircling the base of Bucky’s cock with one of his free hands and pumping. Bucky’s head falls back against the shower wall. He’s been given blow jobs by girls he’s dated before but somehow the fact that Steve is the one on his knees is a thousand times hotter than anything else he’s ever experienced. 

Steve pulls back and licks a long strip from the root of Bucky’s cock to the tip before slapping it lightly against his tongue. Bucky’s hands scrabble at the tiled wall of the shower stall, looking for purchase but not finding any. Steve lets out a chuckle around the tip of Bucky’s dick, which only makes him moan louder, and then returns to bobbing his head again, hollowing out his cheeks to pull more noises of pleasure out of his boyfriend. It’s over all too soon. It only takes a few minutes and Bucky can’t hold back any longer. 

“Steve, oh god, I’m gonna…” he manages to get out and then he’s coming. Steve pulls off just in time and jerks off Bucky through his orgasm, letting the thick white ropes splash onto his face. Bucky leans back against the wall as he tries to keep himself upright. His knees feel like jello. 

He watches as Steve stands up and rinses his face under the stream of water. When he’s finished he turns to Bucky and says, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just need a minute,” he says breathlessly. 

Steve has the nerve to grin at him. “I take it that means you liked it?” 

Bucky gives him the middle finger with his metal hand. “Of course I did, you jerk! When we get upstairs I want you to show me what you’ve been reading.” He finally recovers his composure and snakes an arm around Steve’s waist, pulling him in close. “You gonna let me reciprocate or what?” 

“If you want to,” Steve says as though he’s not still standing there sporting a massive hard-on.

Bucky slips his flesh hand in between their bodies and begins to pump Steve’s erection with quick, efficient strokes. “You know, you’re pretty adventurous for a virgin, Stevie.” 

“Won’t be long and I won’t be one anymore,” Steve pants against his shoulder. 

“Is that your way of telling me you wanna go all the way?” Bucky changes to an agonizingly slow pace, waiting for Steve to answer him. 

“Bucky, please,” Steve whines but Bucky doesn’t give in. 

“Answer my question, sweetheart.” He stops altogether now but keeps hold of Steve’s dick, rubbing it with just enough pressure from his thumb to make Steve groan. 

“I…ah! I want to…soon. Not now but soon,” Steve groans. 

Bucky picks up the pace again as the thought of Steve lying underneath him making such delicious noises flashes through his mind. “I want to undress you and lay you out on my bed so I can explore every bit of your gorgeous body. Then I’m going to make love to you.” Steve groans and presses his face against Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Keep talking,” he says.

“I wanna do it on every surface on our floor. Remember what we did in the tub the other night? I wanna fuck you in the tub and then maybe we can christen our shower. Or we could try it on the couch. When we lived in that crappy apartment I wanted nothing more than to throw you down on that ugly old blue couch we had and fuck you senseless. Wanted to throw those skinny little legs of yours over my shoulders.” 

Steve lets out a loud cry and then cums all over Bucky’s hand. He wraps his metal arm around Steve’s waist to keep him upright as he sags against Bucky, panting. “Oh fuck,” he chokes out.

Bucky smiles at him. “Good?”

Steve nods against his shoulder. “Real good.”

They stay like that for a few moments until Steve’s finally able to support himself again, then finish showering and get dressed so they can head back to their floor. It’s not until after lunch when they’re curled up on the couch watching a movie that Bucky remembers the book Steve’s been reading. “Where’s that book you were talking about in the shower?” 

“It’s in my room on the nightstand,” Steve says absently, not tearing his gaze away from the tv.

Bucky prods him in the shoulder. “Go get it. I wanna read it.” 

Steve pokes him back. “Get it yourself. Your legs aren’t broken you jerk.” 

“I don’t wanna move.” Bucky snuggles in even closer to Steve and makes a big show of making himself comfortable. “I’ll make it worth your while if you do.” 

Steve just raises an eyebrow at him. “What exactly are you offering?” 

Bucky grins at him and says, “I’m going to read the book and when I read something I like I’m going to try it on you. It’s definitely in your best interest to go and get it.” 

That seems to get Steve’s attention. He heaves himself off the couch and heads into his bedroom. When he returns he hands the book to Bucky and drops onto the couch, trying to make it look like his attention is on the tv when it’s really on Bucky. 

Bucky takes one look at the cover of the book and snickers. “The Joy of Gay Sex?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Real mature, Buck.”

Bucky opens the book and takes a look at the table of contents. It seems to be arranged in alphabetical order, with topics ranging from the banal, like kissing and massage, to the more risque, like anal sex, blow jobs, and sex toys. Quickly thumbing through shows that there are illustrations included. “Stevie, look at this!” he says enthusiastically, showing off a page containing a black and white illustration of a naked man on all fours. “I’d like to see you spread out on my bed like that.” 

“Bucky!” Steve squeaks, sounding scandalized. His cheeks have gone bright pink again, something that Bucky finds adorably hilarious, and he’s unable to resist teasing Steve a bit. 

“Come on, Steve. Don’t act all shy and virginal after what we just did in the shower this morning.” 

Steve lets out an embarrassed chuckle and shakes his head. “You’re right, I’m being stupid. It’s just that this is all new to me and most of the time I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“And you think I know what I’m doing? I’ve never had a sex with a man before,” Bucky says. 

“At least you’ve had sex,” Steve points out. 

Bucky shrugs at him. “You’re a quick learner.” He flips back to the table of contents and starts looking for a page on anal sex, which leads him to a section on “bottoming”.

_As you gain more sexual experience you'll find that you prefer certain positions. You may discover that you enjoy being penetrated by your partner, meaning that you have become a “bottom”. The name derives from the placement of the person being penetrated - i.e., on the bottom in the missionary position. However, this doesn't mean that you are always required to have sex in the missionary position since there are many other positions, which are detailed in this book, that you may enjoy. Being a bottom does not make you any less desirable than a top or unable to penetrate another man during intercourse, if that's what you and your partner choose. Feel free to penetrate your partner or take turns with each other._

Bucky nudges Steve and points to the passage in the book. “Is that something you’d like to try?” 

Steve leans over and scans the information but this time he’s not blushing, instead looking at Bucky with pure lust in his eyes. “Yeah, I want to. I’ve already been doing some experimenting with one of the vibrators we’ve got and I want to do it with you soon. I want you to lay me out on your bed and fuck me senseless.” 

Bucky closes his eyes for a second and groans. “Jesus, Steve. You know for a virgin you’ve got a filthy mouth.” 

Steve just grins at him. “You like it,” he teases. 

“Of course I do,” Bucky says. “You sure you want to do this with me though? I mean-” 

“Don’t talk like that,” Steve interrupts, reaching over and grabbing his hand. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to do it with. I thought I’d never to get to, that I’d just have to find someone else and spend the rest of my life as your best friend instead. I told myself I’d have to be happy with that.” 

Bucky squeezes his hand. “I wish I’d known back then. I know it was dangerous but I’d have found a way for us to be together. There’s not much point in dwelling on the past though.” 

Steve gives him a fond smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get sappy on you.”

Bucky closes the book and puts it aside on the coffee table. He tugs Steve in close, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s okay. It’s one of the things I love about you. That and how great your ass looks in your uniform.”

Steve snorts with laughter and presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “You always did know how to sweet talk me.”

The two of them settle down on the couch and Steve presses the back button on the remote control so they can watch the scenes they’ve missed.


	35. Chapter 35

It’s two nights before the press conference and Bucky’s lying on the couch with his tablet. The elevator sounds and then the doors open to reveal Steve, who’s holding several grocery bags. Bucky only gives him a passing glance before flicking his eyes back to the article he’s trying to read. He manages just a few lines before it becomes nearly impossible to concentrate with Steve rustling around in the kitchen. 

“What are you doing in there?” Bucky calls. 

“Getting ready,” Steve answers.

This piques Bucky’s interest so he sets his tablet aside and heads into the kitchen. He finds Steve in the middle of making sandwiches. “Getting ready for what?” he asks. 

Steve spreads mayonnaise onto a piece of bread and adds a piece of ham on top. “Date night. We’re having a picnic.” 

“I hate to burst your bubble but there aren’t exactly any places around here for picnicking, plus I’m not supposed to leave the tower until the press conference happens.” 

Steve doesn’t look fazed at all. He adds cheese on top of the ham and then covers it with another slice of bread. “We’re going up to the roof to have a picnic under the stars.”

“You’re bonkers. It’s going to be cold up there and we probably won’t see any stars. Light pollution is a thing you know,” Bucky grumbles. 

“Hey, I’m trying to do something romantic for you!” Steve pushes out his lower lip in a mock pout and gives him the sad puppy dog eyes. 

Bucky grabs him around the waist and yanks him in close for a kiss. “You know I adore you. That’s why I put up with your crazy ideas, punk.” 

Steve sighs in mock annoyance and starts building another sandwich. “Go back to the couch you jerk. I’ll call you when you I’m ready.” 

Bucky manages to finish the rest of the article he was reading before Steve enters the living room again. He’s got a ridiculous looking wicker picnic basket in one hand and two blankets folded over one arm. “Come on Buck, let’s go.” 

Bucky follows him into the elevator without comment. When they reach the roof it’s windy and he shivers, wishing that he’d thought to tell Steve to wait so he could fetch a coat. “I told you it’d be cold,” he complains.

“It’s not that bad. It’s barely fall and we’ve been out in worse weather before.” Steve puts one of the blankets down and drops to sit beside the picnic basket.

“Just because we slept on the ground during the war doesn’t mean we need to re-create it now.” Bucky sits down next to Steve and waits expectantly for him to open the picnic basket. 

Steve just laughs as he pulls out a sandwich covered in clingfilm and hands it to him. “We should go camping some time.” 

Bucky unwraps it to find that it’s got ham, lettuce, and cheese. He mock glares at Steve and says, “Nope. I’m not leaving the luxury of a soft bed and indoor plumbing unless I absolutely have to.”

“Not even if I promise you tent sex?” Steve asks. 

“Not even for sex in a tent. We can have sex anywhere that doesn’t involve the outdoors though.” 

“So any surface in the tower is okay?” Steve jokes. 

Bucky just rolls his eyes at him. “Within reason.”

The two of them sit in comfortable silence, eating and looking out over the city with its hundreds of lights casting out into the darkening sky. Bucky rummages in the picnic basket and finds that Steve’s packed several bags of chips, sodas, bananas, and chocolate chip cookies, which he attacks with gusto. It’s only when they’ve finished eating that he realizes how much chillier it’s gotten and he complains to Steve again. 

“Come here,” Steve says. He pulls Bucky into his lap and wraps the extra blanket around them both. He’s silent for a moment and Bucky can almost hear him thinking as they watch the sun begin to set. 

“Are you okay, Stevie? You’re awfully quiet.”

Steve sighs and presses a kiss to Bucky’s temple. “I keep thinking that this is like the calm before the storm. It could be one of our last nights together.” 

“Don’t talk like that. Let’s attempt to be optimistic here,” Bucky chides. 

“I know. All of our friends are here to help and they’re going to make sure we get the best chance possible. I just can’t stop worrying,” Steve confesses. 

“I worry too, Steve, but I still want to go through with this.” 

Steve tightens his arms around Bucky. “To the end of the line.” 

“To the end of the line,” Bucky echoes. He takes hold of Steve’s hand, twining their fingers together. 

After a moment of silence, Steve says, “We should go in soon.” 

“Sounds good to me. I’m freezing.” Bucky makes a move to get up but Steve pulls him back down. 

“Buck?” 

“What is it Stevie?” 

He can hear Steve swallow hard before continuing and the arm around his waist tightens ever so slightly. “I think…I think I’m ready…I want to, um, tonight…” 

Bucky’s eyes widen and he twists his head sideways so that he can look at his boyfriend properly. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.”

“Let’s go in then.” Bucky heaves himself out of Steve’s lap and they start gathering up their trash, blankets, and picnic basket. Steve’s quiet in the elevator on the way down, leaning against the railing and looking nervous but determined. Bucky feels the same. He can’t remember feeling this jittery since the first time he had sex but he supposes it’s because he’s never taken anyone’s virginity before. The women he slept with either told him they were experienced or just didn’t mention it. 

Once in Steve’s bedroom he can see Steve’s nervousness get even worse. He takes a seat on the bed and starts trying to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands. Bucky reaches out and stills them. “Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do it right away.” 

“I want to,” Steve insists. 

“We have all night.” Bucky stretches out on the bed and motions for Steve to join him. “Just lie down and relax for a bit, sweetheart.” 

Steve curls up beside him so they’re face-to-face. “I’m pretty sure Pepper will have our heads if we show up too tired to do her press conference prep tomorrow.” 

“Steve, we can both stay up longer than the average human being due to the serum. I don’t think we’ll have any issues,” Bucky points out. 

Steve smiles at him. “Guess I’m just a little impatient.”

Bucky leans over and kisses him quickly, then says, “We’ve waited this long. What’s a little longer? I just wish we could have done this before the war, before you thought you’d lost me for good.”

“I wasn’t even a hundred pounds soaking wet. You probably would have broken me,” Steve laughs. 

“I would have been careful with you. Back then I’d never have hurt you.” 

“You still wouldn’t, not intentionally,” Steve tells him. 

“But on the helicarrier I-” 

“That wasn’t you. You didn’t know me.”

Bucky takes Steve’s hand in his and brings it to his lips, brushing them gently over the knuckles. “I promise you that I’ll never leave you or hurt you ever again. You’re stuck with me, Rogers.” 

“Can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with,” Steve says. Bucky leans over and kisses him. Steve kisses back ferociously and it turns into a hot and heavy make-out session with the two of them rubbing up against each other. Bucky pulls away to trail kisses along Steve’s jaw and down to his neck. He arches his back and moans, “Fuck!” 

Bucky fingers the top button on his shirt. “Can I?” 

“Please,” Steve says. Bucky quickly strips him of his shirt and tosses it over the side of the bed, then starts kissing down his chest, stopping to flick his tongue over a nipple. Steve shivers and lets out a moan.

“God you’re gorgeous,” Bucky says.

Steve lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Less talking and more fucking.” 

“Language,” Bucky quips. 

Steve groans. “Did Natasha tell everyone about that?” 

“Probably.” Bucky runs the fingers of his flesh hand around the waistband of Steve’s jeans, briefly dipping a finger inside once to tease, and asks, “What do you want me to do to you, Stevie? When I take these off do you want my hand or my mouth?” 

“Your mouth, please.” Steve arches his hips.

Bucky pops the button on Steve’s jeans, then yanks the zipper down. Steve helpfully lifts up his hips, watching through lust blown eyes as Bucky yanks his jeans off and tosses them over the side of the bed. He takes a moment to admire the beautiful sight of his boyfriend spread out before him, his skin flushed a delicate shade of pink and his cock heavy against his belly, leaking pre-come at the tip. 

Steve nudges Bucky’s thigh with his foot.“You gonna sit there all night or get on with it?” 

“Just admiring,” Bucky says. He settles himself beside Steve’s left hip and bends down to swallow his cock. He’s not able to take the entire thing in at once, due to Steve being a bit larger than average, but thankfully the books he read have prepared him for that. Bucky pulls back to suck on the tip and uses his flesh hand to stimulate the shaft. 

He bobs his head up and down, then pulls off to lick Steve’s dick from root to tip before swirling his tongue around the head. Steve thrusts his hips up, moaning Bucky’s name. He holds Steve down with his metal hand and engulfs his cock once more, then slips his flesh hand down to play with Steve’s balls, eliciting a loud moan. With his mouth, he alternates between shallow sucks and deeper ones, tearing an “Oh fuck!” out of Steve. Bucky returns to bobbing his head again but it’s only a few minutes until Steve puts a hand on his head and says, “Wait, stop! I don’t wanna-” 

Bucky pulls off again. “You okay?” 

“I don’t wanna come yet. I wanna do it while you’re inside me.” Steve pulls him up for another kiss and yanks up his t-shirt. “Take this off and fuck me.”

“Bossy,” Bucky says. He wastes no time in throwing his shirt over the side of the bed and wiggling out of his pants and underwear. “We need lube.” Steve opens the nightstand drawer, fishes around, and pulls out a tube. Bucky takes it and flips open the plastic cap with a loud snick, then squirts some out onto his fingers. He gently runs his fingers around the outside of Steve’s ass, feeling pleased with himself when that draws out a moan from his boyfriend. 

Bucky switches to rubbing his index finger slowly back and forth over Steve’s hole. “Oh god,” Steve groans. His eyes slide shut and he throws his head back, mouth open in a perfect “o” of pleasure as Bucky continues to touch him. He slowly slides his index finger inside and Steve sucks in a breath, making Bucky still his movements. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It just feels a little different than the vibrator I tried,” Steve explains. Bucky pushes the finger all the way in and, when Steve doesn’t protest, he adds another and starts to slowly pump in and out. He stops, adds more lube, and then pushes in with two fingers this time. Steve lets out a breathy little noise that Bucky takes as a good sign so he adds in a third finger. 

He wiggles his middle finger upwards, curling it as though making a ‘come hither’ gesture, and prods hesitantly until he finds the spot he’s looking for. The book he read said that it would feel very good but Bucky’s not prepared for how Steve’s hips shoot up or how he shouts, “Fucking hell Buck!” He keeps prodding Steve’s prostate with the pad of his finger until he’s got Steve begging and writhing. “Fuck me. Please Bucky, please.” 

Bucky quickly slicks up his cock and positions it at Steve’s entrance, then slowly starts to push in. He feels Steve’s entire body tense and stops. “Are you okay? We can stop if you want to.”

“No, I’m just a little nervous. Don’t stop,” Steve pleads. Bucky reaches out and starts to jerk Steve’s cock with quick thrusts, which helps do the trick to relax him as pleasure washes over him. He’s able to get all the way in this time but stops to give Steve a chance to adjust to the intrusion. 

“Still doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” Steve answers. Bucky pulls back until he’s almost slid out of Steve and then thrusts back in, starting a slow and steady pace. Steve’s eyes slide shut and he groans, “Fuck, that’s amazing!” Bucky has to agree. Being inside Steve feels incredibly good. It’s nothing like the rather tedious encounters he had with women back in the thirties; it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done and Bucky only wants more of it. 

“Jesus, Steve,” he moans as he continues to thrust in and out, speeding up because he just can’t hold back anymore. Steve’s hand drifts down between them and he begins jerking his cock rapidly. 

“Yeah, faster, more.” 

Neither of them manage to last very long. Bucky tries to hold back by thinking about baseball for a few seconds but it doesn’t do any good. Within minutes he’s shouting, “Oh fuck! Steve, I’m coming, I’m coming!” He empties himself into his boyfriend, fucking through the aftershocks of his orgasm while Steve continues to fist his cock beneath him until he achieves his own release, erupting over his hand and spilling onto his stomach.

When the two of them have come down from their high, Bucky rolls off of Steve and lies flat on his back. “Sorry I came so quick. It’s been awhile…seventy years actually.”

“Hey, I’m just that good,” Steve jokes. He reaches over the side of the bed and grabs his shirt to wipe the mess off his stomach.

Bucky watches him while shaking his head. “Only one time and you’re already getting cocky.” 

“I’ll show you cocky,” Steve says. He throws a leg over Bucky’s waist and straddles him, kissing his way up from Bucky’s chest to his lips. 

“Do you think the serum affects how many times we can get it up in one night?” Bucky asks.

Steve nuzzles at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. “Only one way to find out.”


	36. Chapter 36

_Bucky’s in a room full of reporters, sitting front and center on a chair on a very high stage. Out in the audience all he can make out are bright lights that make it difficult to view the crowd and the occasional camera flash going off. It’s warm enough that sweat drips down his face, dropping beads off his forehead and into his shirt collar, wetting his neck. The sound of the reporters clamoring for him to answer their questions is a deafening roar._

_“How many people would you say you’ve murdered?”_

_“Were you ever in favour of Hydra’s tactics?”_

_“Some people are saying it’s very convenient that you lost your memory while with Hydra but have now gotten it back. What do you have to say to that?”_

_“When you talk about ‘abuse’, what sort was it? Physical, mental, sexual? How exactly did Hydra violate your bodily autonomy?”_

_“What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Captain Rogers? Plenty of gossip magazines and websites are implying that the two of you are more than friends, although the Smithsonian exhibit describes you as brothers.”_

_“Is it true that you murdered Howard and Maria Stark? How did Tony take the news?”_

_Bucky tries to answer the rapid-fire questions he’s being barraged with but he can’t keep up. Panic quickly begins to set in and he bolts up from his chair, knocking it over, and starts looking for a way off the stage. He’s about to jump down into the crowd and make a run for it when the lights over the audience begin to dim, making it easier for him to make out the features of the reporters. “No,” he whimpers._

_They’re not reporters. They’re his victims and most of them are in a state of decomposition, reminding Bucky of the zombie movie he watched with Natasha a few nights ago. There’s a woman in a nightgown with a gunshot directly through her forehead, revealing her brain through a gaping hole. A man in the remnants of a business suit grins ghoulishly at Bucky as he makes no attempt to hide the internal organs dangling out of his abdomen. Two small children have strangulation marks around their necks. A woman in a seventies-style pantsuit is missing an arm and most of her chest wall. A young man barely out of his teens in military gear has a knife sticking out of his shoulder and blood leaking from multiple stab wounds._

_“You’re going to pay for what you did, Barnes!” a voice shouts from the crowd._

_“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t want to hurt any of you,” Bucky sobs. He falls to his knees and weeps uncontrollably. He doesn’t fight them when they pull him off the stage because he deserves whatever they’re going to do to him and so much worse._

“Bucky! Bucky, wake up!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Bucky cries again. He feels someone shaking him and curls up into a ball to get away from the touch. 

“Bucky, it’s okay, you’re safe!” 

“No,” Bucky moans. There’s no way he can ever be safe again, not when his victims can get to him and make him atone for his crimes. 

“Bucky, you’re in the tower with me. We’re in bed in your room and nobody can hurt you.” 

Bucky rolls over and falls out of bed, taking a tangle of blankets with him, which finally wakes him up properly. He turns onto his side and vomits onto the carpet. Steve vaults over the side of the bed, rushing to pull the blankets away, and takes Bucky into his arms. “Hey, hey, you’re safe. You’re okay.” 

Bucky buries his face in Steve’s shoulder. He can’t stop sobbing and gasping and his mouth tastes of sourness. He can’t get the image of the audience of corpses out of his head and it sickens him all over again. He tries to lean over to avoid getting any vomit on Steve but he’s not quick enough and most of it ends up on Steve’s shirt. “I’m sorry!” he wails. 

“It’s okay Buck, don’t worry about it,” Steve says. Bucky tries to take a breath in but can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs, causing him to start panicking once more. Steve gently smooths a hand over his back. “Take a deep breath for me, Bucky. In and out, just like I’m doing.” He pulls Bucky’s flesh hand up to rest flat against his chest. It’s oddly reminiscent of when Steve used to have asthma attacks and Bucky would sit up with him at night, urging Steve to copy his breathing in the hopes of easing his laboured wheezes.

Bucky closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing for a few moments until he starts to feel calmer. He swallows hard and then pulls back to look at Steve. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll clean it up.” 

“You don’t have to. It’s okay,” Steve insists.“Come on, let’s get you taken care of.” Bucky tries to get up but he can’t seem to make his legs comply because he’s shaking too badly. He doesn’t protest when Steve lifts him from the floor and carries him into the bathroom. He sets Bucky on the edge of the tub, then turns on the water. “Can you get yourself undressed?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He strips off his vomit covered t-shirt and carefully wiggles out of his boxer shorts. Steve throws both their clothes into the laundry and pads back to the bedroom naked. Bucky heaves himself over the side of the tub, drops into the water, and leans back, closing his eyes. He hears Steve enter the bathroom again. 

“How ya feeling, Buck?” 

“Awful,” Bucky says in a tiny voice. He opens his eyes to see Steve kneeling by the edge of the tub. Suddenly he feels the longing to be close, to feel Steve’s skin against his, so he scoots up closer to the end of the tub. “Get in.” 

Steve steps in and lowers himself into the water, then guides Bucky back into his lap. “I think that’s the worst one you’ve had in a long time,” he says. Bucky wants to tell Steve about his nightmare but he doesn’t know where to start. Instead he leans back against Steve’s body, closing his eyes to stave off the tears threatening to start again. “Buck?” 

Bucky tries to choke off a sob that bursts out of him and it comes out strangled. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Steve murmurs, wrapping his arms around Bucky to hold his shaking body in place. 

“I…I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not strong enough and they’re going to rip me apart,” Bucky cries. 

“Bucky, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much but you’ve never let any of it beat you. You’ve always gotten up again when life’s knocked you down. But if you want to rest, it’s okay. I can call Tony and have him put a stop to everything right now, even if he tries to tell me it’s too late. I’ll take care of it,” Steve soothes. 

Bucky shakes his head. “I have to.”

Steve drops a kiss onto his neck. “You don’t have to do anything.” 

“I don’t want you to tell Tony to cancel anything. I want…I just want to sleep without dreaming about people dying,” Bucky sobs. Finally, the story of his nightmare pours out of him in halting sentences. 

Steve stays silent, listening patiently until he finishes. Then he says, “Jesus, Buck, no wonder you freaked out. I wish there was something I could do to make it stop.”

Bucky leans his head back against Steve’s shoulder and groans, “I’m so tired.” 

Steve reaches out and grabs the washcloth hanging from the faucet to dunk into the bathwater. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then maybe we can try sleeping again.” He gently drags the cloth down Bucky’s chest but then stills. “Gross! You have puke in your metal arm.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Ugh.” 

Steve washes them both, then they dry off with fluffy towels and head into Steve’s bedroom. “I cleaned up a bit but JARVIS is going to send someone to deal with the carpet in a few hours,” Steve explains. 

Bucky sheds his towel and tosses it onto a nearby chair, not bothering to get dressed before climbing into bed. “I don’t know if I can sleep.” 

“Why don’t we just lie down for a bit?” Steve suggests. He drops his towel on the floor beside the bed and curls up next to Bucky, pressing his chest to Bucky’s back. “I love you.” 

“Love you too.” Bucky tries to fall asleep but can only seem to manage a light doze, drifting in and out for the rest of the night as he listens to the sound of Steve’s breathing. Somewhere around five a.m. he finds himself wide awake so he disentangles himself from Steve’s arms and wanders into the living room to watch t.v. It’s nearly an hour and half later when Steve finally wakes and finds him there. 

After they’ve had breakfast and gotten dressed, they head up to the penthouse to meet Tony and Pepper. “Did either of you sleep at all? You both look like shit,” Tony remarks as soon as he sees them. 

Bucky shoves past him and drops onto the couch.“Good morning to you too, Tony.” 

“Seriously though, are you both all right?” Tony asks as he scrutinizes their tired eyes and slumped postures. 

“Just had a rough night. Bad dreams,” Steve says. 

Tony’s expression immediately becomes pained and sympathetic. “I’ve been there and it sucks, royally. Can’t offer any advice but I can commiserate.” He waves to Pepper who’s just entered the room, dressed in yet another of her smart business suits and carrying her tablet. 

“Steve, James, good to see you,” she says warmly, coming over to embrace them both. “How are you holding up?” 

“Nervous,” Bucky answers.

Pepper smiles at him. “It’s going to be fine. I’ve got everything arranged so it should go just like we practiced. If not I’m sure Tony can stage a diversion of some sort.”

Tony grins and presses a button on his wrist watch. It immediately transforms, fanning out small tendrils of metal that look a bit like spider’s legs before encasing his hand to form a red and gold gauntlet. “I can think of something.” 

“I’m sure that won’t be needed but just in case. Let’s go downstairs. The car’s waiting,” Pepper says briskly. 

To Bucky’s delight (and Steve’s embarrassment) the car turns out to be a limousine. Steve spends at least five minutes complaining that it’s too flashy and will draw too much attention but Tony just waves him off with the explanation that it’s the only thing big enough to transport the four of them plus the six bodyguards Tony’s bringing along. 

Thankfully Steve doesn’t argue after that and they pile in to head to the convention centre. When they arrive, Tony’s security hustles them all through a back door and into a beige side room with two brown couches and a table holding a rather ugly looking fake plant. 

Tony tells them that he’s going out to “warm up the crowd” and slips out, along with Pepper and five of the bodyguards. The sixth one remains just outside the door. Steve sits down on the couch and beckons Bucky towards him. “Come here.” 

Bucky curls up at Steve’s side. He doesn’t mind that Steve seems to want to hold him close for now because he’s definitely a bit nervous. Neither of them speak until Pepper returns with one of the bodyguards and informs them, “Two minutes.”

Steve gets up from the couch, tugging Bucky up with him. “Just give us a few seconds,” he says. When Pepper nods and closes the door, Steve turns to Bucky and gives him a gentle kiss. “I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world, Buck. Whatever happens I’m with you till the end of the line.” 

Bucky can’t help but smile. “I love you so much, Stevie.” He lets Steve take his hand and guide him out through the door. Pepper takes them through the hallway and into the conference room through a back door hidden behind the stage she’s had set up. 

“Steve, you’re going up first. You’ll bring Bucky out once you’ve finished.”

Steve seems a bit reluctant to let go of Bucky’s hand but he sounds confident when he says, “I’ll see you soon.” Bucky watches him go but doesn’t feel as anxious when Pepper gently touches his arm. 

“It’s going to be okay. This will all be over soon,” she consoles. Bucky can’t bring himself to do more than nod. 

From the stage they hear Steve starting his speech. “Good morning, everyone. As I’m sure you’ve all been told, I have an announcement to make today. Before I get to that I need to start with some past history though. I ask that you be patient and listen to everything I have to say because there will be time for questions afterwards. I’m sure that most of you know know my story by now, or at least you think you do, thanks to the Smithsonian and some really inaccurate books.” 

He pauses as the audience chuckles a bit before continuing. “You probably know that long before I became Captain America I was just a skinny kid from Brooklyn who got beat up a lot. My first, and pretty much only, friend back then was James Barnes, better known as Bucky. In nineteen-forty four we were both part of the Howling Commandos, an elite combat unit that was tasked with the capture of Dr. Arnim Zola, who was Hydra’s top scientist. Three of us ambushed the train that day but only two of us returned.” 

Steve pauses for a moment but when he continues, Bucky can hear the emotion lacing his voice. “I watched Bucky die before my eyes that day and I can honestly say that it was the worst day of my life. When I crashed the Valkyrie into the ocean I thought I was going to my death. I thought that I’d see Bucky again and maybe we’d meet in a place where we didn’t have to fight in someone else’s war.” 

Bucky can feel tears forming in his eyes. He swipes at them with his flesh hand and draws a deep breath. Any moment now he’s going to have to face the crowd and he doesn’t want to be a mess when he does. He focuses on regulating his breathing and listens to Steve finish the speech. “I woke up to a world where the war was over but Bucky was still dead. I believed that until one day on a bridge when everything I thought I knew got turned upside down. I’m sure that by now all of you have the seen the files that Agent Romanoff dumped online regarding Project Insight and Hydra’s plot to have me killed by an assassin known as the Winter Soldier but his real identity has been unknown until today.” 

Bucky doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until Pepper gently squeezes his arm and he lets it all out with a loud whoosh. He tries to give her a smile but she just looks at him sympathetically. Steve continues, “Bucky survived the fall from the train. Hydra experimented on him and turned him into the Winter Soldier. That day on the bridge was the first I knew of any of it and when I saw Bucky for the first time in over seventy years he didn’t even know me.” 

There’s a shocked silence from the reporters and then the room breaks out into furious whispering. Steve waits for them to go silent before continuing.“After we took down Project Insight Bucky was free from Hydra’s control but he had no memory of any of his past and he ran. It took me two years to find him, bring him home, and start the process of rehabilitation but he’s made considerable progress since then. I’d like to ask him to come up on stage now so we can begin taking questions.” 

Bucky knows he should move but he feels frozen to the spot. He’s dimly aware of Pepper patting his arm and telling him to get going but he can’t bring himself to move. Thankfully Steve comes to his rescue, coming back to fetch him. “It’s okay Buck,” he says softly and that breaks Bucky out of his fear. He lets Steve take hold of his arm and guide him up onto the stage. There’s a beige table with two ugly metal folding chairs and a microphone at each place set up. Steve calmly takes a seat and Bucky does the same. 

The reporters, who were previously whispering and gesturing furiously to each other, immediately begin clamoring to ask questions as soon as they lay eyes on Bucky. He’s thankful for the security Tony’s brought when they materialize at the edges of the crowd and one of them begins directing the reporters so questions are only asked one at a time. The first question is definitely not what Bucky was expecting.

A woman in navy blue with shoulder-length blonde hair says, “Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair. What do the two of you have to say about the rumors that you were in a relationship before the war?” 

Under the table Steve squeezes Bucky’s hand and nods. Bucky takes a deep breath and says, “There is no truth to those rumors. Before and during the war the two of us were never more than friends but we were very close.” 

“And now?” Christine questions. 

“After I came to live with Steve I had a lot of stuff I needed to sort out. I didn’t know anything about my past but it didn’t take long for me to figure out that I had always loved him and eventually he told me he felt the same. We’re still pretty new but we’re happy together.” 

A man in a black business suit is next. “Richard Banfield from CNN. So you’re willing to go on record saying that both of you are gay?” 

Steve looks like he’s restraining himself from rolling his eyes at the man. “Yes, we’re both gay and in a relationship. I hope that clears up any confusion.” 

There’s a smattering of laughter from the audience and the questioning continues in much the same vein with questions ranging from whether they plan to get married (Steve says, “Not yet”) to what their favourite sexual position is. Steve colours red at that and says it’s not appropriate to talk about. Eventually the questioning turns from the frivolous to the serious and Bucky is asked about his time with Hydra. 

“What do you think caused Hydra to choose you as the first candidate for their Winter Soldier program?” 

“I don’t know; opportunity, maybe. I guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Bucky says. 

“What were conditions like at the Hydra facility where you were kept?” 

“Horrible,” Bucky mutters. “I…I was tortured. I was beaten, chained up, sleep deprived…they operated on me without anesthetic. I tried to escape and they tortured me some more. Then they built a machine to wipe my memories and took away everything that made me me. They almost destroyed me.”

“Do you consider yourself a prisoner of war?” 

“I’ve never really thought about it that way but I guess technically I am.” 

“Did you hope that you would be rescued?” 

Bucky frowns. “Initially I did. I thought that Steve would come for me but then they showed me a newspaper that said he was dead.” Steve squeezes his hand and Bucky responds in kind, hoping that Steve isn’t blaming himself again.

“Did you ever think you were going to die?” 

“I did at times. I even begged for them to kill me but they just laughed. Zola told me that I was going to be kept alive by whatever means possible and there was nothing I could do about it,” Bucky answers. 

“How many people have killed? Do you feel remorse for it?” 

Bucky lets out a shuddering breath. Steve leans over and whispers, “If you want to stop it’s okay.” Bucky just shakes his head and turns back towards the microphone. 

“I don’t know the exact number of people I murdered but I do remember the missions Hydra sent me on and what I did. I have nightmares about it all the time. I wake up screaming sometimes and I can’t sleep. I’ve been feeling remorse every day since I’ve been free and I wish there was some way to make amends,” Bucky says in a wavering voice. 

“Do you have any plans to meet with the families of those you killed?”

“I would like to but I’m not sure it would be welcome. I don’t know what I can say or do that would ever make up for someone they loved being murdered.” 

“Have you been treated for your obvious PTSD?” 

“I’ve been going to therapy but I don’t really want to get into the details. I feel like that’s private,” Bucky says. 

“Are you going to join the Avengers?” 

“I…” Bucky hesitates. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to get my life back together right now so I haven’t really thought about it.” 

“What happened to your arm?” 

“I lost it in the fall from the train. Hydra built me a prosthetic and then they attached it while I was still awake with no pain medication.” 

“Have you ever considered suicide?” 

Bucky tries and fails to answer the question, sputtering, “Uh…I…” but he’s saved by Steve. 

“That’s not an appropriate question,” Steve says angrily. Then he leans over and whispers to Bucky, “Do you want to stop?” 

“Soon.” Bucky’s starting to feel fatigued now and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last. Steve waves over one of the security people and lets him know that they’re ready to wrap up the questioning. Bucky lets them decide that he’ll answer two more questions before they put a stop to it. 

In the third row a woman in a gray suit with short red hair asks,”Have you been able to recover many of your memories and would you say that Steve is the one who helped you most with that?”

Bucky hesitates for a moment before he answers, not wanting to give too much away about his recovery. He and Steve discussed it beforehand and decided that they wouldn’t be speaking publicly about their trip to Asgard in order to keep attention off of the Tesseract. “I’ve been remembering a lot lately and I would definitely credit it all to Steve. He never gave up on me, even when I didn’t know my own name. I’ll be forever grateful to him for all he’s done for me.” 

Steve squeezes his hand again, looking at Bucky with a soft smile. He looks like he wants to say something but then the next question is being asked. A man in the back wants to know if Bucky’s afraid of being prosecuted for his crimes as the Winter Soldier. “I am but I’ll face whatever comes,” Bucky says simply. After that it’s announced that questioning is over and Bucky follows Steve off the stage. 

He’s quiet until they reach the limo. “Well I think that went rather well,” Tony says as he climbs inside. Bucky doesn’t answer. He just curls up on the seat, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder and heaving a sigh of relief. 

Pepper is already busy on her tablet, making plans and talking to Steve about what the next steps are going to be. “I’m a bit surprised that they asked all of the relationship questions first,” he says to her. 

She shrugs. “It’ll make a nice puff piece for some of the lifestyle and gossip magazines. The heavy hitters will be more interested in the serious side of the story and will probably minimize the relationship aspects. We need to reach as many demographics as possible so that means…” 

It’s at this point that Bucky starts to nod off and any noises in the limo fade away. He’s not aware of his surroundings until suddenly Steve’s gently shaking him. “Bucky, we’re home.” Bucky blinks sleepily and sits up, rubbing his neck, which is now quite sore. 

“Home?” he mutters drowsily. 

Steve climbs out of the limo and motions for him to follow. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.” 

“I’ll text you later,” Pepper says to Steve before she and Tony take one of the elevators up to the penthouse.

Bucky lets Steve propel him into another one nearby. He yawns and stretches as JARVIS takes them up to their floor. “Have a nice nap?” Steve asks. 

Bucky grins at him. “The best. I had my favourite pillow to lean on.” 

Steve just rolls his eyes at him. “Come on, let’s make some lunch and we’ll check the news to see if our press conference has gotten any attention.” The elevator comes to a stop but Bucky makes no move to get out. “Buck?” Steve asks worriedly, “Are you okay?” 

Bucky leans back against the elevator wall, suddenly feeling weary. “No,” he says.

Steve comes closer to him, looking puzzled. “No?” he repeats. 

“I…I don’t want to. I just want to forget for a bit. Just a few hours, please.” He crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling too exposed. 

Steve approaches him carefully, as though he’s a wounded animal that might strike out at any moment. “Whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Bucky unfolds his arm and reaches with his flesh hand to take Steve’s. He leads him through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom. Bucky discards his shirt and begins working on his belt. “Strip,” he orders. Steve shoots him an amused look but does what he’s told. Once they’re both naked, Bucky steps into the shower, turns on the water, and begins adjusting it to the perfect temperature. 

He feels Steve step in behind him and wrap an arm around his waist. He presses a kiss to the nape of Bucky’s neck, then nuzzles at the side of it. “You did good today. I want you to know that I’m proud of you and I love you.” 

Bucky’s not sure how best to respond to that but he manages to say, “I love you too, Stevie. Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Steve trails kisses from Bucky’s neck to his shoulder, over his back, and onto the ropy scar tissue surrounding his metal arm. “Whatever comes we’ll face it together, always.” 

They don’t talk much after that. Bucky turns around and starts gently running their bar of soap over Steve’s body, even though neither of them really need to get clean since they both showered this morning. He just wants to shut out the world so he can map every inch of Steve. He loves that never-ending expanse of smooth, creamy skin so unlike his own, which is marred by Hydra’s ugliness. 

Ever since he escaped he’s wanted so badly to reclaim his humanity but it eluded him until Steve appeared in his apartment back in Bucharest. Now that he’s been rescued, Bucky could lose himself in Steve Rogers and not regret a single moment of it, basking in the rock solid faith that his lover has in him. He decides that he’s going to worship Steve’s body the way it was meant to be since before the serum was even a dream to either of them. He drops the soap and sinks to his knees.


	37. Chapter 37

Steve and Bucky are lying curled up in bed when Pepper calls. “Have you turned on the news since you got back?” she asks.

“No, why?” Steve says. 

“The press conference has gone viral. You’ve made every major news network and social media site so far. JARVIS is keeping an eye on things for us.” 

“Good or bad?” Bucky can’t resist wondering.

“Some of both. There has a hashtag called ‘I Support James Barnes’ trending on Twitter but there’s a raging argument on Reddit about whether or not you should answer for the murders,” Pepper says. 

Bucky can’t make sense of what she’s saying. He supposes it has to do with social media, something that everyone he knows seems to love but he’s never been able to feign interest in. “What do we do next?” 

“Interviews. People are going to have questions and we should start answering them before too many rumours start flying around,” Pepper says. 

Bucky pillows his head on Steve’s chest and sighs. “How many more?” 

“As many as we need to do.” 

Underneath him he feels Steve shift and settle back down. “Just let us know where we need to be and when.” 

“JARVIS will send you a schedule. Get some rest tonight because you’ve got two interviews tomorrow,” Pepper tells them before she says her goodbyes and hangs up. 

Steve’s phone beeps and he pulls up the interview schedule and groans. “What have we gotten ourselves into?” 

Bucky cranes his neck to see and is surprised to see so many big name news shows and magazines. “We’re doing an interview for TIME?” he asks in awe. 

“It’s not glamorous as you think,” Steve says wryly. “I’ve been through all of this before and it gets pretty tedious after awhile. They always ask the same questions over and over again. Sometimes I feel like giving them the most bullshit answers possible to see what they’ll believe.” 

“I’m sorry, Steve. If you don’t want to go I can go alone,” Bucky offers. He feels Steve’s arm tighten around him, drawing him in closer. 

“No, sweetheart. We started this together and we’ll see it through the same way.” 

Bucky finds the television interviews just as nerve-wracking as the press conference but he doesn’t mind talking to journalists who write for the various magazines Pepper’s gotten them interviews with. Unlike Steve, he’s not annoyed with the large number of questions they get about their relationship. Bucky fields most of them because it’s easy to talk about Steve, to shout to the world about how much he loves the man sitting next to him. 

The questions about the torture he endured at the hands of Hydra are harder to take. Bucky breaks down sobbing during an interview with 60 Minutes and has to be taken back to the green room by Steve until he can get himself back under control. He’s as honest as possible about what he’s endured, wanting anyone watching or reading to know that he wasn’t a willing participant in Hydra’s terrorism. It’s wearing emotionally though. Bucky finds himself crying in several of his therapy sessions with Amy but he steadfastly maintains that he doesn’t want to slow down when she suggests scaling back on the number of interviews. 

His determination to expose the horrors he’s been through pays off though. JARVIS reports to Pepper that public opinion of Bucky is extremely favourable, even if the internet forums he’s been monitoring seem to be divided on whether or not Bucky is a war criminal. He tries not to read too much of it because it only makes him anxious. Anything that makes Bucky anxious makes Steve worry and Bucky feels his heart breaking whenever he sees that pinched expression on his boyfriend’s face. 

They try to temper the fear and worry with spending as much time together alone as possible. Date night becomes a regular occurrence with each of them seeing what they can do to surprise or outdo the other, getting as creative and outrageous as they possibly can without leaving the tower. Neither of them feel safe without Tony’s security detail following them at every turn.

One afternoon Bucky’s sitting on the sofa with his tablet when JARVIS informs him that Pepper wants to see him and Steve. They head up to penthouse to find her waiting for him, dressed in one of her smart pantsuits and a pair of heels so high Bucky’s surprised she can even walk in them. “Have a seat you two,” she says.

Bucky drops onto the sofa, Steve falling into place beside him. “Well, give us the bad news.” 

“What makes you think it’s bad?” Steve inquires. 

Bucky fixes him with a withering look. “If it was good news we wouldn’t be up here.” 

Pepper sighs and shifts around in her chair. “It isn’t. Tony’s heard through some of his connections that the ICC are going to have you arrested on the grounds of both war crimes and crimes against humanity.” 

Steve leans forward in his seat, looking confused. “What’s the ICC?” 

“The International Criminal Court. I’ve killed in so many different countries that it’s probably impossible for any one by itself to charge me for what I’ve done. I’ve been doing some research. I knew it was only a matter of time,” Bucky answers darkly. 

Steve’s face has all but crumpled and his voice sounds hollow when he speaks. “How soon till they arrest him? What are we going to do?” 

“It’ll be soon, likely a few days at the most. Our strategy is to cooperate with the arrest. Bucky will be held in a secure facility until the trial but we’ll make sure that nothing bad happens to him during that time. The legal team’s been working on a defense for months already and I’m pretty sure that with the public support you’ve drummed up it’s likely we won’t run into many issues.” 

“Issues?” Steve repeats and his voice has risen about an octave. 

Pepper eyes him sympathetically and says, “We’re doing everything we can, Steve. I promise we’ll do our best to make sure that you both come out of this okay.” 

Later, when they’re alone, Steve curls against Bucky’s side on the couch and takes his hand. He’s got a grim expression on his face. “I hate waiting like this. I feel like I should do something to help but there’s nothing I can do.” 

“We can make the most of the time we have,” Bucky offers.

Steve presses a kiss to his temple. “Dinner and a movie again?”

Bucky slides his hand up Steve’s leg and says coyly, “Maybe. But there are plenty more adventurous things we could be doing.” 

This produces a smile from Steve. “What do you have in mind?” 

“You said once that you wanted to paint me. Were you serious?” Bucky teases. 

“I was but I don’t feel like getting out my paints tonight. How about I sketch you instead?” Steve says before pressing his lips to Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky makes a dramatic show of swooning with one hand thrown over his forehead and his eyes closed. “Draw me like one of your French girls!” 

Steve bursts out laughing. “I wish we’d never watched that movie.”

Bucky opens his eyes and nudges Steve’s shoulder. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

Steve disentangles himself from Bucky. “All right, all right, I’ll go find my sketchbook.”

While he’s gone Bucky quickly strips off all of his clothes and tosses them onto the floor, then stretches out on the couch in a pose reminiscent of Kate Winslet in Titanic. He snickers as he hears Steve’s footsteps coming back down the hall. When he gets to the living room and sees Bucky lying on the couch he stops in his tracks, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “Like what you see?” Bucky winks at him. 

“I..uh…” Steve tries and then fails. 

Bucky’s grin gets even wider. It seems that he’s short circuited Steve’s brain. “Come on, Stevie. You can’t just stand there all night. I thought you were going to draw me.” 

Steve clears his throat and seems to compose himself then. He grabs a chair from the kitchen and positions it in front of the couch before sitting down and sweeping his eyes over Bucky’s body. “What?” Bucky asks, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Steve puts the pencil to a fresh page and begins scratching away at the first outlines of his drawing. 

“You know sometimes I think you’re crazy,” Bucky tells him. 

“Nope,” Steve answers, popping the “p” in the word.

Bucky shifts slightly to make himself more comfortable. “You know, I think I’m the one who got lucky here. Even with my memories back I’m not even close to being sane…or able to live a normal life.”

“Buck, I don’t think anyone in this tower lives a normal life. It’s kind of something you give up when you become an Avenger.” There are more scratching noises from Steve’s pencil.

“I’m not an Avenger though,” Bucky says. 

Steve’s pencil stills and his eyes lift from the page to lock with Bucky’s. “Would you ever want to be?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky answers truthfully. “Sometimes I think I’d be happy not to cause anymore destruction in the world but then I realize that if I’m not out there watching your back you’re liable to do something stupid that’ll get you killed.” 

“You know me too well,” Steve chuckles. His eyes drop back to his sketch and the noise of his pencil can be heard once more. 

“Well if you’d stop being so stupid -” 

“How can I when you always take all the stupid with you?” 

“Punk,” Bucky snaps but it’s without any real venom behind it. 

“Jerk,” Steve counters.

“I’m not the one who volunteered to have some crazy German scientist experiment on them!” 

“The army wouldn’t accept me any other way. How else was I supposed to get to you?”

“You weren’t supposed to get there at all. You were supposed to stay safe at home,” Bucky huffs. 

He can practically hear Steve smiling from where his head is bent over his sketchbook. “When have I ever done what I was supposed to?” 

“Never. I don’t know why I bother.” Bucky closes his eyes and shifts a bit uncomfortably. 

“You don’t have to stay perfectly still, you know. I can draw the pose from memory,” Steve tells him. 

Bucky opens his eyes and turns over on his side. He’s starting to get a little bored so he decides to make it his mission to seduce Steve away from his drawing. “You’re gorgeous yourself, Stevie; always have been.” 

A light flush begins dusting Steve’s cheeks and neck with pink. “After the serum, maybe,” he mutters as he concentrates on the drawing. 

“Nah, you were always the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on. I used to think about getting you into bed all the time.” Bucky smirks at Steve as the flush on his face grows deeper and continues. “You were so little that you woulda fit right in my lap. I’d imagine you sitting on my dick and bouncing up and down while I touched those pretty pink nipples of yours.” 

“Bucky! You’re wrecking my concentration,” Steve whines. 

“You like it.” Bucky reaches down and thumbs boldly at his cock, smirking when Steve swears under breath and starts erasing something on the page. “Sometimes when you were sleeping I’d beat off. I’d think about what it’d be like to have those gorgeous lips of yours around my dick, sucking me off. I’d think about bending you over every available surface in our apartment and fucking your brains out.” 

“Jesus Buck. You kissed your mother with that mouth?” Steve’s deliberately got his head bent down over his sketch, trying to ignore Bucky. Bucky can still see the flush on his face though. It’s deepened to a dark red by now. 

He runs a hand up his chest and tweaks a nipple. “I’d much rather kiss you. Come here.” Bucky slides his hand back down his body to grip his cock and starts slowly working himself to hardness. 

“I thought you wanted me to draw you.” Steve’s steadfastly not looking at the way that Bucky’s touching himself as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. His face is tomato red and it’s clear that he’s definitely aroused. 

“You can finish it later. Right now I just want you to get over here and have a seat. I’ve got a nice spot for you right here,” Bucky purrs, boldly thrusting his hips forward. 

Steve closes his sketchbook and neatly sets it aside on one of the side tables, along with his pencil. “Should I just strip or do you want a show?” 

“Just get naked and get over here,” Bucky says impatiently. 

Steve yanks his t-shirt over his head and drops it onto the floor. Bucky watches hungrily as he unbuckles his belt, pushes his jeans and underwear down his legs, and steps out of them. “Like what you see?” 

“Always,” Bucky murmurs. He relaxes back on the couch as Steve climbs on top of him and straddles his lap. Bucky reaches up and yanks him down for a searing kiss.

“Fuck,” Steve gasps when they break apart.

“That’s the idea,” Bucky chuckles. He thrusts his hips up, rubbing up against Steve’s ass and letting out a loud moan.

Steve leans down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “Hurry up. Wanna fuck now.” 

“Hey, we have all night,” Bucky protests as he reaches out to lazily tug at Steve’s cock. 

Steve bats his hand away.“You’ve been lying here the whole time, dirty talking to me and turning me on, and now you want to go slow? I want your dick in me as soon as possible.” 

“I just don’t wanna hurt you,” Bucky says.

Steve leans down and nips at the side of his neck. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to let you get up and you’re going to go find some lube. Then you’re going to get back here and fuck me senseless.” He climbs off of Bucky and sits down on the chair in front of the couch, lazily stroking his cock. Bucky practically jumps to his feet and in an instant he’s down the hall, heading towards his room. He roots around in the bedside drawer and finds the lube. 

“You better not be cumming without me!” he calls as he makes his way back into the living room. 

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” Steve smirks at him as Bucky lays down on the couch again. 

“Catch.” Bucky tosses the bottle of lube to Steve.

“Not gonna give me a hand here?” Steve asks.

Bucky lays back on the couch with his head resting on the arm. He makes a big show of getting comfortable. “Nope. 

“So you do want a show. You liar.” Steve pops open the cap with a loud snick and squirts some of it onto his fingers. Bucky groans as he watches Steve turn around and lean over the chair, making it it easier for him to reach between his legs and start fingering himself. 

“Fuck, that’s hot!” Bucky breathes. “Hurry up and get over here so I can fuck you properly.” 

Steve laughs and then withdraws his fingers from his ass. “You sure about that? I could put my mouth to work before we do it.”

“I’m not moving so get over here and get on my dick.” Bucky thrusts his hips up again. Steve climbs on top of Bucky and positions Bucky’s cock at his entrance. “Oh my god,” he gasps as Steve slides down. 

“Steve will do just fine.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve says as he begins to bounce up and down on Bucky’s cock. After that there’s very little talking. They’re mostly limited to swearing, grunting, and moaning with pleasure. “Bucky, gonna come soon.” 

Bucky increases his pace, thrusting faster and harder. “Yeah, let me see you.” He watches as Steve jerks his cock until he errupts over his fist, eyes falling shut and mouth opening with a loud cry. “Oh god, Bucky!” 

Seeing Steve’s “o face” pushes Bucky over the edge and he cries out as he spurts inside of Steve. He slows down until his hips finally come to a stop, choking out, “Fuck that was hot.” Steve slumps down over top of him. His head is heavy on Bucky’s shoulder. He doesn’t move or speak until Bucky finally pushes at his shoulder and mutters, “Move, Steve.” 

Steve rolls off of Bucky, landing on the floor and splaying out face up in a starfish position. “Think I’m gonna stay here for the rest of the night.” 

“Get up you punk. You can’t sleep on the floor.” Bucky nudges him with his foot. 

“I’ve slept in worse places,” Steve says, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. 

Bucky sits up and pokes at him again with his big toe. He nudges Steve relentlessly until finally Steve swats at him and rolls away. “Come on, Stevie. Let’s take a shower and then we can go to bed.” 

“Urrrgh,” is all Steve seems to be able to manage. Laughing, Bucky gets up from the couch, grabs Steve by the arms, and starts dragging him through the living room. This seems to get Steve’s attention and he starts to struggle against Bucky’s hold. “Get off me you jerk!” 

“Well get up then!” Bucky lets go of Steve’s arms and leaves him lying on the floor. 

“All right, fine!” Steve finally gets to his feet and grabs Bucky by the waist, pulling him in for a kiss. “I don’t know why I put up with you,” he mumbles against Bucky’s lips. 

“Cause you love me,” Bucky says. 

Steve’s expression softens into a fond smile at that. “I’ve always loved you. If anything changes I’ll let you know,” he teases. 

“You’d better.” Bucky takes Steve’s hand and guides him towards the bathroom. After they’ve showered and dressed they curl up in bed together, Bucky resting his head on Steve’s chest. Bucky drifts off to sleep, feeling more content than he’s ever been in his life. He wishes they could stay like this forever. 

It doesn’t last. They arrest him two days later at the tower. On the advice of Tony, Pepper, and their team of lawyers, he surrenders without incident and lets himself be led away in a pair of constricting vibranium handcuffs. He takes one last look at Steve, who’s standing there with fear and pain in his eyes, and mouths, “I love you.”


	38. Chapter 38

Bucky has no idea where he’s being taken. Just before the agents locked him in the back of the SUV they blindfolded him, not even allowing him to have one last look out the window at Steve. Bucky takes a deep breath, holds it for a few minutes, and then exhales again. He’s got to stay calm. Tony’s team of lawyers are going to take care of the situation so all he has to do is sit tight. It’s easier said than done when he keeps picturing Steve’s devastated expression. 

The SUV grinds to a halt and Bucky waits to see if they’ll take the blindfold off so he can check his surroundings. His hopes are dashed when he’s roughly dragged out and marched along a long corridor before coming to a stop. The room is cold and echoes loudly whenever anything makes noise. The sound of grinding of metal on metal makes Bucky flinch, because he knows he’s about to be put in a cell. Then the noise stops and his blindfold is ripped off shortly before he’s shoved inside and an iron gate is locked into place.

Bucky takes stock of the area and realizes that the cell he’s in is basically a reinforced vibranium box with a glass front (most likely shatterproof and bulletproof), a set of iron bars in front of that, and what looks like an electrified mesh fence just before a small walkway. There’s no chance of escape. Even if he could break through all of that there would probably be several extra layers of security waiting for him. Bucky sits down on the floor and does the only thing he can do: wait. 

Steve and Tony are going to get him out of here. He just has to be patient. Bucky repeats that to himself like a mantra, turning it over and over in his head to keep himself from panicking. Eventually he lays down on the thin mattress in the corner and sleeps fitfully. He’s not even sure if it’s dawn when he awakes but his body tells him that he’s rested enough so he sits up and looks out at his surroundings. Some time later a man in a blue prison uniform comes to his cell and unlocks a small door at the bottom. He pushes in a plastic tray with Bucky’s breakfast on it, locks the door again, and retreats. 

Bucky has a million questions he wants to ask but holds himself back from saying anything. It’s better to keep his mouth shut. He inspects the tray of food and finds gluey cold oatmeal, two pieces of buttered bread barely masquerading as toast, and a hard boiled egg. Intuition tells him that he shouldn’t eat anything his captors give him but eventually hunger wins out. Bucky eats quickly and leaves the tray in front of the bottom door. At least they’re feeding him. 

It’s hours before he sees anyone else again. He’s sitting in the corner of his cell when he hears footsteps approaching. Bucky immediately gets up, instinct and adrenaline making him alert and ready long before the situation fully registers. There are three men this time; two of them in suits and one dressed head to toe in black combat gear. 

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. It’s the gaytriot’s little butt pirate buddy,” Brock Rumlow sneers as he steps forward. 

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be locked up in The Raft?” Bucky growls. 

Rumlow just shrugs and makes a mocking apologetic face. “I have friends in high places. I’d like to introduce you to my two associates - Senator Robert Stern and Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker.” 

“I thought you were the one pulling the strings for Hydra these days?” Bucky spits out.

Rumlow’s face goes from amused to murderous rage. “I’m very much in charge, Barnes. The Senator keeps us from getting too much attention and Strucker here is now in charge of the science division. You’re going to get really well acquainted with him soon.” 

“Until he forgets,” Strucker interjects. 

Bucky takes one look at the way both Strucker and Stern are grinning at him and he feels a wave of cold fear sweep over his body. “The chair’s gone, asshole.” He won’t show any sort of weakness in front of Rumlow. It would give him the satisfaction of seeing the Soldier cower at his feet again and Bucky would rather die before submitting to that. 

Senator Stern takes a step forward and regards Bucky like he’s a particularly interesting science experiment. “That’s why we recruited Strucker. He’s going to create a copy of the chair for us so we can re-mold you into the Asset. Your work has been a great gift to us, helping Hydra to shape the last century. We stand on the cusp of greatness and we only need one more thing in order to help us achieve that: you.” 

“The last person who said something like that to me ended up dead. The moment you take me out of this cell I’m going to kill all of you,” Bucky threatens.

Rumlow just shrugs. “Suit yourself. If you agreed to co-operate with us we wouldn’t have to wipe you. Enjoy having your brain fried.” He motions for the two men to follow him and retreats. 

Bucky collapses back against the cell wall and then slides down until he’s sitting on the floor with his head cradled in his hands. He hopes like hell that Steve and Tony have figured out who he was really taken by and are working to free him. If Strucker rebuilds the chair before they can get to him there’s no doubt he’ll be used as a weapon against his friends. There’s nothing to do but wait.

Rumlow returns the next day, seeming to revel in taunting Bucky. “You think being connected with Stark is going to save you? He’s the entire reason why you’re here.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bucky growls. 

Rumlow smirks. “Who do you think fed the information about the ICC to Stark’s contacts? There never was a warrant for your arrest. Told you I have friends in high places.” 

“Yeah, well I don’t care if you’re friends with God himself. You’ll be dead before you ever put me back in that chair,” Bucky snarls. 

“That so? Strucker says twenty-four hours tops and his prototype will be ready for testing. He’s been very dedicated.” Rumlow grins wolfishly at him and Bucky has an urge to punch it right off of his face. 

“Fuck off,” he snaps, pounding his metal fist on the glass. Rumlow leaves Bucky alone after that, apparently satisfied that he’s pissed him off enough for the morning. The only time he sees anyone else is when one of the uniformed guards brings him meals, otherwise he spends his time napping or sitting in silence. It makes Bucky uneasy. By Hydra’s standards this is being well taken care of and it raises his suspicions. They’ve always been more than fond of torturing their captives, mostly to get information, but sometimes just because they seem to employ an extremely high number of sadists. 

It takes another day before the guards come to get him. When they do they send twelve men with a plethora of non-lethal weapons and one of their scientists. Bucky fights like a man possessed, breaking one of the guard’s arms, snapping the neck of another, and knocking at least three of them unconscious. Eventually he gets tasered for his trouble, ending up face down on the floor. 

It doesn’t stun him too badly but it gives the scientist enough time to jab him with a large hypodermic needle. The last thing he remembers before darkness takes over is the guards getting a hold of his arms and legs to carry him out of the cell. Bucky’s not sure how long he’s out for but when he slowly comes around he’s strapped to a table. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters once he manages to get his mouth coordinated enough to speak again. 

“It’s not exactly a chair but it does the same job,” a heavily accented voice says from nearby. Strucker appears in view and he looks way too happy for Bucky’s comfort. “Any last words before you are permanently removed from existence?” 

“Yeah, go to hell!”

“I’ve been there. It’s not as terrible as you’d think.” Strucker pulls down some equipment from the ceiling and begins attaching it to Bucky. It clamps around the top of his head in a vice-like grip and he’s sure that he’ll have one hell of a headache whenever and wherever he wakes. “Bite on this,” Strucker instructs. He shoves a rubber mouthguard at Bucky, swearing loudly when Bucky attempts to bite one of his fingers. 

Strucker slaps him across the face and then shoves the mouthguard in. “Stop trying to fight me. You’ll be thanking me later.” He laughs when Bucky snarls around the mouthguard and tries to struggle against the bonds holding him in place. He watches helplessly as Strucker moves back to his computers. 

He’s forgotten how much it hurts. Bucky screams and screams, thrashing his body involuntarily as the machine clamps down even harder on his head, sending jolts of electricity through his brain. Besides the operation on his arm, it’s the single most painful thing he’s ever experienced. It feels like the pain stretches for hours, nearly splitting his head in two, until mercifully everything goes black again. 

He wakes in a cell, lying on a thin mattress spread out like a starfish with a splitting headache. He passes out again and fades in and out of consciousness for several hours before he’s able to stay awake for more than a few seconds at a time, then takes nearly another hour to be able to push himself into a sitting position. The cell is somehow familiar but he can’t place it. 

He’s not sure how he got there or why but somehow it’s not a completely foreign sensation to him. He makes an attempt to stand but tumbles back to his knees, causing him to have to crawl through his cell to get to the toilet. He vomits. Black spots dance in front of his vision and he’s forced to lie down on the cold floor until the nausea and dizziness stop. 

A soft whimper passes through his lips. He would give anything to be back in the tower with Steve, curled up in bed with his boyfriend putting out enough body heat to warm them both. Something terrible must have happened for Bucky to have ended up in this cell with a throbbing headache and no sign of Steve or any of his friends. The echoing sound of footsteps sets his adrenaline racing. 

“Good morning Soldier,” an unfamiliar man says in heavily accented German. “ I trust you slept well.” 

_Fuck,_ Bucky thinks. He’s probably been captured by the dregs of Hydra **again.** _Cut off one head, two more shall grow back in it’s place_ is starting to sound like more than just an annoying catchphrase. Bucky pushes himself into a sitting position and then gets to his feet. He’ll have to pretend he’s the Soldier again. It might be his only chance of escaping.

Bucky keeps his face impassive and says, in Russian, “Ready to comply.” 

The man behind the glass looks extremely pleased, almost to the point of being giddy. “Fantastic. Rumlow will be happy with our work today.”

_Rumlow?_ Bucky thinks in confusion. He remembers the confrontation on the roof but isn’t sure how the man could possibly have escaped from The Raft after SHIELD had captured him. A second later it all clicks into place. They tried to erase him again but didn’t quite succeed at it. This man must be another one of Hydra’s idiotic scientists, working with Rumlow, and possibly many others, to re-create the Winter Soldier. “At ease, Soldier,” the man in front of him says before walking away.

Bucky sits down on the floor again, attempting to formulate a plan of escape. The entire cell he’s in is made of vibranium with a glass front that’s probably shatterproof. There’s a set of iron bars in front of that and an electrified mesh fence in front of a walkway. He can’t see much beyond that but he’s betting there’s even more layers of security in the form of cameras, guards, and equipment. It looks like escape is extremely unlikely, especially while still in the cell. He’ll have to bide his time. 

A few hours later the scientist is back with three guards and Rumlow. “Soldier.” 

Bucky carefully schools his face into a blank expression, trying not to show how surprised he is to see Rumlow in person. “Ready to comply,” he says again in Russian. 

“Follow me,” the scientist says, motioning for the guards to unlock the cell. Bucky waits until it’s opened and then dutifully follows the man down the hall, flanked by the guards and Rumlow. He’s taken into a bare room painted in a peeling dull green and made to stand at one end of the room. The scientist grabs the arm of one of the guards, forcibly yanking him to the other end to stand across from Bucky. “Kill him,” the scientist says in a tone of voice that’s on par with reading out a shopping list.

“Wait! No, please,” the guard begs.

Bucky hesitates. The man across from him looks like a scared kid. He’s got to be barely into his early twenties with a round baby face and soft brown eyes. Bucky wonders how he got involved with Hydra. “Well, what are you waiting for? Snap his neck!” the scientist bellows. 

Bucky can’t. He won’t. His days of murdering people at someone else’s command are over, even if it does mean that he comes to harm himself. “No.” 

The scientist is looking nervous and Rumlow has a furious expression on his face. “I order you to snap his neck!” 

Bucky does his best not to comply but still keep his cover as the Soldier. “Mission has not been sanctioned.” 

“I thought you said you’d wiped him,” Rumlow fumes. “You’re wasting my fucking time here.” 

“I assure you that the procedure was completed properly. I don’t know why he’s being disobedient. Give me another chance. I can do better, I can fix this and make him compliant,” the scientist grovels. 

Rumlow’s silent for a moment but then he nods. “Wipe him again and this time do it right!” He stalks out of the room.

The guards surround him but Bucky sends all three of them flying in different directions across the room. He rounds on the scientist just in time to see the man push a red button on the wall. An alarm starts sounding throughout the building in a deafening wail. Bucky makes it about halfway across the room before he’s met with a mass of guards rushing in. 

He tries desperately to fight them off but he’s outnumbered and only manages to harm three or four of them before he’s pinned to the ground and given some sort of injection. As Bucky lies face down on the floor, fading out of consciousness, he mumbles, “Oh fuck.” 

When he comes to again he’s strapped to a table while the scientist connects equipment to his head. Bucky lets out a groan and turns his head to the side to get a better look at the scientist. “You are awake, Soldier.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky rages. 

The scientist finishes his work and wanders over to his computer equipment, seemingly unbothered by Bucky’s words. “Maybe this time you’ll be more compliant,” he mutters. It’s the last thing Bucky hears before searing pain slams into his head, making him feel like his skull is about to split in two, and he lets out a bloodcurdling scream. The pain only increases in intensity. Eventually it becomes too great and he passes out.

He wakes up in a cell with no memory of how he got there. The last thing he remembers is being in bed with Steve, curled up against his warm body. If he doesn’t know how he ended up in the cell then there’s a significant gap there, probably to do with whoever’s captured him. As he tries to sit up he realizes that his entire body aches terribly. He’s covered in bruises and small lacerations over every patch of exposed skin and a quick touch to his face tells him he’s sporting a black eye as well. 

Bucky forces himself to get to his knees and crawls across the floor to get a better view of what’s outside his cell. He can’t see much out of his swollen left eye but he manages to note that the cell is likely vibranium with a glass front that’s probably shatterproof and bulletproof. There’s a set of iron bars in front of that and a walkway. Something glints in front of it and Bucky thinks there’s probably an electric fence set up to deter anyone who makes it past the first set of defenses. 

Bucky tries to get his sluggish brain to formulate a plan of escape but he’s too exhausted. He needs to heal more before he tries anything. He crawls back to the thin mattress and passes out until some hours later when he’s woken by a man with a thick German accent. “Good afternoon, Soldier.” 

Bucky opens his eyes wearily and struggles to push himself into a sitting position. “Who the hell are you and what the fuck do you want?” 

“I am Baron Wolfgang von Strucker; a scientist. You are my experiment,” the man explains.

Bucky winces. So he’s back in a Hydra cell and they’ve got some idiot scientist trying to wipe his brain again. Judging by the fact that he can still remember his own name, the guy isn’t doing a very good job at it. “I’m not in the mood for conversation so you can either fuck the hell off or just do whatever you’re going to do me.”

Strucker nods at him. “A wise choice. I have little time for idle chitchat myself. I shall return.” Bucky closes his eyes, hoping against hope that maybe Strucker will stay away for awhile. He’s not sure how much time passes but when he wakes, his cell door is open and someone is kicking his feet. “Up,” Strucker commands. 

Bucky struggles to get to his feet but his legs are weak. He stumbles and crashes back to his knees on the hard flooring. “Bring him,” Strucker says to the assembled guards before walking out of the cell. Two guards grab Bucky under his armpits and start dragging him from the cell, flanked by five more. He dimly wonders why they need so many; it’s not like he’s going to put up a fight. His head lolls and black spots are dancing in front of his eyes. 

When he’s coherent enough to take in his surroundings again he’s on a table and Strucker is attaching some sort of equipment to his head. Bucky gets an odd feeling of deja vu, wondering how many times they’ve done this. It must have been more than once for him to feel so awful. He watches warily as Strucker heads over to his computer equipment and hits some buttons.

Searing pain stabs through Bucky’s skull and he cries out with the shock of it. It feels like someone’s drilling into his brain and he screams and screams, straining against the cuffs holding him down on the table, until mercifully he passes out. When he wakes he’s lying on a table with no idea of how he got there. A man across the room is looking at him with interest and his face looks vaguely familiar but Bucky can’t come up with a name. 

He turns his head to the side to get a better look at the room. Searing pain explodes in his skull at the tiniest of movements and he cries out in agony. The man across the room comes closer, leaning down until his face is directly over Bucky’s. “What’s your name?” 

Bucky wonders if it’s a trick question. He screws his eyes shut, taking a few moments to try to gather his thoughts. The only thing he can come up with is, “Barnes…Sargent…three…two, five, five….seven…oh…three, eight.” Anger flashes across the man’s face and he backhands Bucky, turning his head and causing him to scream again as white hot pain flares through his head. 

“You’ll obey me in time, Soldier,” the man says, smiling cruelly. “I think it’s time to increase the voltage.” 

Bucky wants to tell him off but he’s too exhausted and in too much pain to do anything more than whimper as the electricity jolts through him. When he wakes he’s on a table with no memory of how he got there. From the looks of the room it’s probably a Hydra facility. Nearby he can make out snatches of conversation. 

“...told you to wipe him, not kill him!”

“I can assure you that all of my calculations are correct but I’m not Arnim Zola! I don’t have the resources at my disposal that he had!” 

“And I told you to work with what we have! I expected better of you, Strucker. Your reputation preceded you but I guess it was all built on lies.” 

“I can do it. Just give me one more chance.” 

“Fine, but if you do any more damage I’m putting a bullet through your skull!”

Bucky tries to open his eyes and catches a glimpse of a man storming by the table and out of the room. Moments later a face swims into view. His voice identifies him as the man who was being dressed down by his superior. “Tell me your name,” he demands.

Bucky tries to speak but can’t seem to come up with a coherent sentence. The room’s spinning, there are spots dancing in his vision, and his head is throbbing. All he can manage is a groan. “Unbelievable,” the man mutters. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he throws a punch. His fist slams into the side of Bucky’s face, jarring his head and tearing a howl of pain from him. The man crosses the room and starts fiddling with his computer equipment. Bucky can hear several muttered curse words coming from him.

He’s bracing himself for the electric shock that’s surely coming when a loud crash shakes the entire building. Panicked shouts from the guards sound outside in the hall and Bucky can hear footsteps mingling with the sound of weapons being discharged. “It seems your friends have finally found us,” the man across the room says. He looks nervous as he unholsters a gun, keeping it trained on the door.

_Steve,_ Bucky thinks. Steve must be coming for him. There’s another loud crash followed by the sound of shooting. This one seems closer and Bucky can’t help but crack a tiny smile as he imagines the world of hurt the Hydra scientist is about to be put through. The noises come closer and then the door is busted off its hinges and a man in red and gold steps through.

The scientist fires his gun but it has no effect. Iron Man lifts his gauntlet and fires a single repulsor blast, sending the other man flying into the wall with a sickening crunch. He turns to Bucky and lifts his face mask. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic, you know? Wow Barnes, you look like shit.” Bucky wishes he could come up with a good comeback but his head hurts too bad and his mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. He settles for letting out a moan of agony. 

“Hey Cap, I found him. You better get here quick. He’s alive but he’s in rough shape,” Tony says into the comm link in his suit. After what seems like only seconds later, Steve is leaning over him. It’s oddly reminiscent of Azzano. 

“Hey Buck, we’re gonna get you out of here.” 

“The jet’s prepped for you. Dr. Cho will meet you as soon as you’re back at the tower,” Tony says. 

“Good. Give us some cover,” Steve orders. Tony heads out into the hall while Steve frees Bucky from the table and slides his arms underneath him. “I’m sorry if this hurts but I promise it’s only temporary.” Bucky lets out a sob as he’s lifted bridal style, the motion jarring his sensitive head and sending splinters of white hot agony into his brain. Steve’s face looks ashen. “Sorry,” he says quickly.

Bucky doesn’t remember being carried out of the Hydra base. He fades in and out of consciousness, only aware of the strong arms cradling him protectively. When he opens his eyes again he’s on a stretcher in the back of the jet with Steve’s worried face looking over him. “Hang in there, Buck. You’re gonna be okay.”

Bucky reaches up with his metal hand because it’s the only part of his body that seems to work properly at the moment and cups Steve’s cheek. He tries to speak but his mouth is too parched to form the words properly. It comes out on a hiss of, “Sssteeef.” 

Steve encircles Bucky’s wrist with his long artist’s fingers. “I love you,” is the last thing Bucky hears before he passes out again.


	39. Chapter 39

Bucky wakes up in a room so blindingly bright that for a moment he stupidly thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Then he takes in the feeling of crisp sheets around his body, the smell of antiseptic, the steady beeps of a machine nearby, and realizes that he’s in the medical bay. His entire body aches. A large number of tubes and wires are attached to it but he seems to be intact.

Bucky manages to turn his head slightly and sees Steve sitting on one of the med bay’s hideous plastic chairs. He looks tired. Bucky tries to speak but all that comes out is a noise that sounds sort of like, “Urrghh,” causing Steve to startle badly. 

“Buck, you scared me,” he breathes. He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a cup of water with a straw in it. “Here, drink this.” Bucky sucks greedily, relishing the way the water soothes his dry throat. When he’s drunk his fill Steve sets the cup back on the nightstand. 

“How…how long?” Bucky asks once he’s gotten his brain and mouth a bit more coordinated. 

“Hydra had you for four days. I brought you back here and you’ve been unconscious for another three.” 

“Three days?” Bucky’s surprised. It feels like very little time has passed between Steve carrying him to the quinjet and waking up again.

Steve’s got that kicked puppy expression on his face again and Bucky’s got a feeling that he’s not going to like what comes next. “Dr. Cho put you in a medically induced coma for two of them to give your brain some time to heal. She had a CT scan done and it showed some inflammation. If it wasn’t for the serum repairing you after each time Strucker tried to wipe you, you would have been...” 

“Dead,” Bucky finishes for him. “I don’t seem to be very good at dying, do I?” 

“Don’t joke,” Steve admonishes but the corners of his lips turn up just a bit.

Bucky reaches out for Steve and they lace their fingers together. “Why didn’t it work? I mean I think it did work, sort of, but why didn’t it take all of my memories?”

“Tony looked at Strucker’s equipment. I didn’t understand even half of what he told me but it pretty much boils down to Strucker trying to recreate Hydra’s old machine from scratch with no directions and a bunch of spare parts. They don’t exactly have the funding for state-of-the-art anymore.” 

“I don’t remember a lot. I just know that it hurt,” Bucky says. 

Steve squeezes his hand. “You’re going to need a lot of rest. Dr. Cho wants you to take it easy for awhile but you should be able to go home by tomorrow.” 

Bucky squeezes back. He’s feeling completely exhausted but he needs to know the answer to the questions he’s dying to ask. “What happened to the scientist? Strucker, was it?” 

“Dead,” Steve answers.

“Any other big names?” 

“Rumlow. His senator buddy busted him out of The Raft. I may have, um, been a bit rough with him.” 

Bucky lets out a snort of laughter mixed with disbelief. “You tore him apart with your bare hands, didn’t you?” 

“I know, I know,” Steve says.

“Were there any more?” Bucky asks. 

Steve nods. “A bunch of guards but most of them are dead or in hiding at the moment. Tony got a hold of their records and found out the Senator was involved but he’s been arrested and turned over to the FBI.” 

“There’ll be more of them out there somewhere…Always…is…” Bucky murmurs drowsily. He’s so tired now that he can barely keep his eyes open. 

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Steve says. 

It takes another day and a half for Bucky to start feeling well enough to go home with Steve. Dr. Cho makes sure that he has another CT scan before he leaves and pronounces him on the path to fully healing due to the wonders of the serum. Steve insists that he use a wheelchair to get back to their floor, causing an argument that lasts until Steve threatens to leave him in the med bay for another day. Bucky gives in. He wants nothing more than to relax in his own bed so he allows Steve to wheel him into the elevator and then to his bedroom.

”Dr. Cho says I should start getting up and moving around,” Bucky complains. 

Steve gives him a concerned look. “She also said to start slow. You’ve been through a hell of a lot in the last week and I don’t want you to be pushing it.”

“Now I understand why you used to complain so much when I’d take care of you,” Bucky says. 

“It won’t be so bad. If you get really bored you can always hang out with me,” Steve teases. 

“Oh horror of horrors, how will I survive?” Bucky shoves him in the shoulder, using his metal hand because the rest of his body is still feeling weak. Steve just laughs and pushes back. 

The two of them stretch out on the bed together and Bucky curls up against Steve, reveling in the body heat emanating from him like a furnace. Steve runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m glad you’re okay. I missed you so much,” he says softly. 

Bucky hums happily. “I missed you too, or at least I’m sure I did. I know that I did during the parts that I remember.” 

“We’re lucky it’s only short amount of time. I was terrified that I’d find you and you wouldn’t know who I was again.” 

“They could never erase you. Even when I didn’t know my own name I knew that I loved you,” Bucky reassures. He’s already starting to feel drowsy again so he curls further into Steve’s warmth and closes his eyes. Steve’s arms tighten around just before he drifts off. 

A few hours later he’s woken with a start by a loud noise and the bed shaking. For a spit second he thinks the tower is under attack but then he realizes that the noises are coming from Steve. He’s clearly having a nightmare. Steve thrashes around, making shield throwing motions with his arms, and letting out fearful sounding whimpers. “Bucky,” he sobs.

Bucky rolls onto his side and grabs both of Steve’s arms. “I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” 

He has to dodge out of the way when Steve kicks out, nearly catching him the groin. “Steve, it’s me!” he yelps. 

“You’re not taking him! Don’t touch him!” Steve shouts.

Bucky softens his tone this time, hoping to talk Steve down from whatever dark place his mind has gone to. “Hey sweetheart, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. You just need to wake up.” 

It seems to do the trick. Steve’s eyes finally flutter open and he and whispers, “Bucky?” 

“Right here,” Bucky says. He reaches out and catches one of Steve’s hands in his own. “It’s okay. We’re both safe.” 

Steve lets out a choked sound that might be the remnants of a strangled sob and curls closer to Bucky. “I’m sorry, Buck.” 

“Don’t be. It was just a bad dream.” He lets Steve burrow in against his side, clinging to him like a drowning man who’s just been thrown a life jacket. 

“I’m really sorry. I keep trying to keep you safe but I fail at it every time!” Steve wails. 

Bucky wraps his metal arm around Steve and uses his flesh hand to stroke through sweaty hair. “That’s not true. You’ve never left me behind; even when it seemed like everything was hopeless you still came back for me. I’ve recovered so much because of you.” 

Steve buries his face in Bucky’s chest, trembling as he tries to get control of himself. “I let complete strangers who turned out to be Hydra take you away! I didn’t go after you when you fell from the train! I let you go off to fight in the war and you nearly died in Azzano! I can’t…I c-can’t k-keep them from taking y-you,” he hiccups. 

Bucky brings his hand down to cup the back of Steve’s neck and rubs slow, soothing circles with his thumb. “You found out that Hydra had kidnapped me and you saved me. Because of you I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder for Rumlow. When I fell off the train you thought I was dead. You didn’t know that the serum had kept me alive and they didn’t find a body so that’s not your fault. When I was in Azzano on that table I’d made peace with the fact that I was going to die but then you were there, saving my life. You’ve never let me down, not even once, in my life. I’m lucky to have you.” 

Steve’s gone quiet and for a minute Bucky thinks he’s fallen asleep. Then he says, “I’m the lucky one,” with a voice muffled by Bucky’s shirt. “Never understood what you saw in me when I was a shrimp.” 

“I saw a little guy with a personality that was too big for his body. You never let anything hold you back, plus you were absolutely gorgeous but I couldn’t tell you that back then.” 

Steve lets out a chuckle and mumbles, “If you’d told me I would have thought you needed glasses.” 

“It’s true, sweetheart. I’ve never loved anyone but you,” Bucky says. He keeps stroking Steve’s hair, hoping to soothe him before he speaks again. “You promised me once that you’d talk to someone about all of this. I guess we kind of forgot because of the press conference and everything. Would you come with me when I go therapy in a few days?” 

“I don’t know, Buck. I’m not sure I can talk to a complete stranger about that sort of stuff.” 

“I won’t lie to you. It’s not easy but it’s worth doing because it makes you stronger. You can’t bottle stuff up or you’re going to explode.”

“O-okay,” Steve says in a tiny voice.

Bucky leans down and kisses his head. “Try to get some sleep.” Three days later he’s dragging Steve into the elevator by the hand. “Come on Stevie, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll be with you,” he cajoles. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” Steve looks utterly terrified, like he wants nothing more than to go running into their apartment and hide in the nearest corner. 

“You can jump out of a plane without a parachute but going to a therapist is scary?” Bucky tugs on his hand again.

“That kind of stuff is easy because I don’t have to think about it; I just do it,” Steve answers. He’s starting to look pale and he’s visibly trembling. 

Bucky stops pulling on Steve’s hand and gathers him into his arms, squeezing him tightly and letting Steve bury his face. “Hey, I understand. It’s easy for you to be brave but when you have to be vulnerable it’s hard. The thing is you don’t have to do this alone. You know I’m with you till the end of the line.”

“Okay,” Steve says, breath hot against Bucky’s neck. “Okay, I’ll go.”

Bucky lets go of him and takes his hand again. “Come on.” Steve still looks visibly nervous in the elevator and by the time they get to Amy’s office his face looks as green as when Bucky forced him to ride the cyclone. 

“Good morning James. It’s nice to finally meet you as well, Captain Rogers,” Amy greets them. 

“Steve is fine,” Steve croaks out. When they sit down he reaches out for Bucky to squeeze his hand. His palm is sweaty. 

Amy crosses her legs and taps her pen absentmindedly on the folder she’s holding on her lap. “This is a little unorthodox but I know that you could really use the help today. One look at your face says you’re not feeling very well.” 

Steve can only shake his head. “He’s nervous. It’s hard for him to be here,” Bucky interrupts. 

“Thank-you James but I’d prefer to hear from Steve.” 

It takes Steve three tries to properly form a sentence that’s somewhat coherent. “I…I, uh… I don’t know if this is for me. It’s weird being here.” 

“Yes, therapy can be a little uncomfortable, especially for your first try but it’s nothing to be afraid of. I can assure you that it’s a journey worth undertaking though. Now, as James already knows, I’m unable to treat both of you because it would be a conflict of interest. What I can do is assess your needs and then recommend one of my colleagues. What are your goals for therapy?” 

“Um,” Steve begins, “Bucky thinks I need to talk about some stuff that happened in my past. I guess it was pretty traumatic and I’ve just been trying to pretend it doesn’t bother me but it does. I…I have… nightmares and stuff.” 

“James and I have discussed his fall from the train several times. I imagine that’s something that has deeply affected you,” Amy says. 

“That and being frozen for seventy years,” Steve admits. 

Amy opens the folder on her lap and pulls out a card to hand to him. “I’m going to refer you to Martin Chen. He’s familiar with patients with PTSD and I think he’d be a good match for you.”

“You think I have PTSD?” Steve says incredulously. 

“I haven’t formally diagnosed you but I believe it’s a distinct possibility. Receiving treatment for it is nothing to be ashamed of,” Amy assures him. 

Steve doesn’t say anything more. He just nods and accepts the card, which he tucks in his pocket. He looks visibly relieved when Amy tells him he can leave so she and Bucky can use the rest of the time for their session. “I’m really worried about him. He doesn’t like showing any kind of weakness and it’s hard for him to ask for help,” Bucky tells her. 

Amy frowns sightly and taps her pen against the folder in her lap again. “From everything I’ve read, plus what you’ve told me about Steve, I’m willing to bet it stems from the years he spent being small and vulnerable.” 

“I used to take care of him a lot,” Bucky admits. “When we were kids he’d get involved with fights he could never win and I’d have to rescue him before he got killed. When his ma died we moved in together so that I could help with the rent and bills. Steve got sick a lot and he couldn’t always work. He would have been homeless ten times over if I hadn’t paid for stuff. I know he hated it.” 

“Did you do it out of a sense of pity or obligation though?” Amy asks. 

Bucky shakes his head. “No, I did it out of love.”

“Does Steve know that?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together. “I always thought he did.” 

Amy smiles. “Sometimes it’s hard for people to see what’s right in front of them. Deep down he most likely knows but his fears and insecurities are holding him back. If he’s willing to work through them he’ll make progress though. He’ll be in good hands with Martin.” 

When the session is over, Bucky finds Steve out in the hall. He’s got his arms folded defensively and he’s staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. “Hey Stevie,” Bucky says.

Steve’s face softens and he give Bucky a gentle smile. “Ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky grabs Steve’s hand and leads him to the elevator. Once the doors close he decides to try bringing up the idea of therapy again. “So, what did you think?” 

Steve rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, looking down at his feet instead of at Bucky. “I still don’t know if I want to go through with it.” 

Bucky squeezes his hand. “Why don’t you go to one appointment and see how it goes?” 

Steve looks at him skeptically. “If I go once and decide I don’t want to go back, are you going to try to force me to go?” 

“No. It’s your choice. I just want you try because it might help you.” 

“Okay,” Steve agrees. 

Bucky lets out a snort of laughter. “Not gonna be stubborn and fight me? That’s not like you.” 

“Would it do any good?” Steve sighs.

“Nope, but we can argue about it if you really want to.” Bucky gives him a cheeky grin, causing Steve to start laughing. 

“Remind me why I put up with you again?”

“Because you love me.” 

“You’re lucky I do,” Steve chuckles. The elevator grinds to a stop and he guides Bucky through the doors onto their floor. “Come on, let’s have some lunch and then we’ll watch another Disney movie. Natasha says I need to see Aladdin.”


	40. Chapter 40

Bucky’s relaxing on the couch when Steve emerges from the elevator, having just come back from his first therapy appointment with Dr. Chen. He avoids looking at Bucky and heads into the kitchen. “Steve?” Bucky calls. 

“Just getting something to drink.” Steve’s voice sounds rough. 

Bucky heaves himself off the couch and walks into the kitchen. Steve’s got his back turned, deliberately hiding his face as he fills a glass from the kitchen tap. Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey sweetheart, I need you look at me.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Steve growls. 

“I know and that’s okay. I just want to make sure you’re all right.” Steve finally turns to look at Bucky and his face is red, eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying, chewing on his lower lip in nervousness. “Come here,” Bucky says. Steve goes easily when Bucky draws him into his arms, resting his head on one shoulder. 

“I didn’t know it’d be so hard,” Steve mumbles against the fabric of Bucky’s shirt. 

“It’ll get better,” Bucky consoles, stroking his fingers across the base of Steve’s neck. “Are you going to go back?” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Steve says uncertainly. 

“If you want I can come with you next time and wait outside. You don’t have to do this on your own, you know.” 

Steve doesn’t reply to that. He lifts his head from Bucky’s shoulder and kisses him. “Why do I feel so tired?” 

“You’re emotionally exhausted, sweetheart. Why don’t you come and lie down?” Bucky takes his arm and leads him into the living room, arranging them both on the couch with him sitting and Steve lying down. Steve rests his head on Bucky’s lap and settles in to watch tv. He doesn’t complain when Bucky turns on a home decorating show, even though he thinks they’re ridiculous, which tells Bucky just how emotionally wrung out he really is.

Bucky strokes Steve’s hair gently and is encouraged when his boyfriend closes his eyes. Steve hasn’t been sleeping that well lately, which has been worrying Bucky to no end. Within ten minutes he’s drifted off so Bucky turns the volume down on the tv and only half pays attention to the couple on screen arguing with their designer about whether or not chenille wallpaper is impractical for a kitchen. He slouches down into the couch, leaning his head back and fully relaxing. 

It’s nearing an hour later when JARVIS’ voice says from the ceiling, “Sargent Barnes, sir is requesting that you and the Captain meet him upstairs.” 

“Tell Tony his timing sucks. He can either wait until later or come down here,” Bucky grouses. 

“Noted,” JARVIS replies. Within a few minutes Bucky hears the sound of the elevator and Tony’s stepping out. 

“Hey Robocop, I was just-” 

He’s cut off by Bucky hissing, “Lower your voice. Steve’s asleep.” 

“Sorry,” Tony whispers. He takes a seat in the armchair. “Look, I know this isn’t the most convenient time but it’s urgent and when I say urgent I mean shit’s about to go down, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” 

“You don’t need to whisper. I’m awake.” Steve stretches and heaves himself up from his position on Bucky’s lap, yawning blearily and rubbing his eyes. 

“As I was saying,” Tony says at his usual over-excited volume, “I’m here because it’s urgent but first I just want you to know that I owe you an apology Barnes. I’m an idiot for not double checking my intel and I take full responsibility for you being captured and nearly killed. I’m very sorry.” 

“Pepper made you rehearse that, didn’t she?” Bucky snorts. 

“She might have,” Tony admits. “But anyways, I’m here with some shit news. The real ICC has decided to formally charge you with a list of crimes about as long as my arm, or maybe a certain other bodily appendage.” He winks at them and Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t joke,” Steve says wearily. 

“I don’t think we need to be that worried though. My legal team feels that it’ll be a slam dunk case. Easy peasy,” Tony says. 

“They’re going to ask me why I didn’t fight harder though.” Bucky’s mouth is set in a grim line. 

“And how exactly were you supposed to fight against having your memory erased?” Steve asks. 

“Steve-” 

“They can’t seriously think you were Hydra! You fought against them in the war! They nearly killed you in Azzano and again just now! They tortured you!” Steve says indignantly. 

Bucky looks dully at Tony, regarding him with an almost detached sort of calm. “We’re going to give them the Hydra files, aren’t we?”

“That’s the plan. My legal team says the best course of action is the same as the press conference: emphasize that you were tortured and get Cap to vouch for you.”

Bucky wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulls him in close. “It’s okay, Steve. We’re just lucky they’re not locking me up and throwing away the key.” 

“You don’t deserve that,” Steve says, leaning into Bucky’s side.

Bucky squeezes him gently. “So, where and when is this happening?” 

“Pre-trial is next week. JARVIS will give you all the details,” Tony says, standing up and starting towards the elevator. He turns around after pressing the button and tells them, “Don’t do anything stupid before then.” 

“How can we when you’re taking all the stupid with you?” Bucky retorts. 

The doors part and Tony steps into the elevator, calling over his shoulder, “Which one of us has two master’s degrees? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

“I’d be hard-pressed to think of something you wouldn’t do,” Bucky says. The elevator doors shut to the sound of Tony’s laughter. 

“I can’t sleep anymore,” Steve groans. He gets up and stalks off to his studio, leaving Bucky behind on the couch. Bucky decides to let him go, thinking that maybe some time painting will help lift Steve’s mood if he can focus on something other than the upcoming pre-trial. He spends the afternoon alternating between reading on his tablet and watching tv. 

When Steve doesn’t show up for lunch Bucky decides not to bother him. He’ll come out when he’s ready and pushing him will just make him dig his heels in. Bucky eats lunch by himself at the breakfast bar while surfing his tablet for date night ideas, looking at recipes, and trying to decide what he could do that might sweep Steve off his feet. 

He smiles as he remembers the night on the roof. Steve had been so adorably nervous when he’d told Bucky that he wanted to have sex for the first time but had turned eager and passionate once they’d actually gotten into bed. Bucky finds himself wishing that he could re-create that. It’s too cold for them to have a picnic up on the roof but maybe he can improvise.

With help from JARVIS he orders several things to be delivered and then goes hunting for their picnic basket. He finds it tucked in the closet of Steve’s bedroom. _Perfect_ , Bucky thinks. When his delivery arrives, he spends the rest of the afternoon setting up and creating the perfect meal for the two of them. The entire time Steve only emerges from his studio once to use the bathroom but pays no mind to what Bucky’s doing. 

It’s nearing early evening when Bucky finally does see him. He wanders into the kitchen looking like a gorgeous paint splattered mess. There’s droplets of sky blue on his shirt, a white streak across his left arm, and a gray smudge starting somewhere near his chin and disappearing down the side of his neck. Bucky grins at him. “Hey Stevie.” 

“Hey, what are you up to?” Steve asks. 

“Date night. Go get cleaned up,” Bucky orders. Steve eyes him with a bit of suspicion but when Bucky declines to say anything more he heads into the bathroom to wash up. Bucky puts the finishing touches on his layout and then calls to Steve to step into the living room. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, taking in the nest Bucky’s created by pushing the furniture back and laying out a blanket and pillows on the living room floor. Bucky’s thought of everything, setting up battery-operated tea lights and turning the lights down a bit after putting out the food. 

“We’re having an indoor picnic. I wanted to re-create that night on the roof but it’s too cold for that now so I thought we’d do it indoors.” Bucky grins. 

For the first time all day he sees Steve smile. He plunks himself down on the floor next to Bucky and gets comfortable. “So, what did you make?”

Bucky produces their picnic basket and starts to pull out plates and cutlery. “Grown-up food this time. I did my best but I really hope it doesn’t poison us,” he jokes. “Roasted salmon and artichokes with potatoes and salad. And for dessert we have pineapple upside down cake, just like your ma used to make when she could get a hold of some canned pineapple for us.” 

Steve’s looking at him with a fond, soft smile on his face and his eyes are bright. “You’re amazing, you know?” 

“For making you dinner? That’s a pretty low standard, Rogers.” 

“No, I mean for putting up with me. I know I’ve been horrible all day today and I’m sorry. I feel like an even bigger jerk now after you went to all this work to do something nice for us.”

Bucky reaches out and takes Steve’s hand in his. “Hey, it’s all right. I know you had a rough morning and Tony barging in here didn’t exactly help. If you wanna talk about it I’m here and if not, that’s okay too. God knows you’ve put up with enough of my shit since you brought me here.” 

Steve lets huffs out a laugh. “I think we put up with each others’ shit. Part of being in a relationship and all.” 

“I suppose so. Eat your food before it gets cold,” Bucky tells him.

Steve’s silent for the first few bites and it makes Bucky wonder if he was overly ambitious in trying to make such fancy food. It tastes fine to him but he’s worried that maybe his boyfriend won’t like it. Then Steve lets out a noise that’s positively indecent and declares, “I think this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” 

Bucky feels a blush rising in his cheeks. “I’m sure your ma would box your ears if she heard you say that,” he teases. 

Steve just gives him a cheeky grin. “You’re probably right. This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten since I came out of the ice and after you made me that shepherd’s pie. How’s that?” 

“Better.” Bucky winks at him. They finish their main course and Bucky cuts generous slices of pineapple upside down cake for both of them. Steve puts a bite into his mouth and makes a noise bordering on orgasmic. 

“The last time I had a cake this good was the last birthday I had before my ma died. If you want to bake more often I’ll buy you all the ingredients you want and reward you with a blow job every night.”

“What’s gotten into you tonight? Are you trying to butter me up for something?” Bucky asks.

“What? I can’t compliment my best guy without an ulterior motive?” Steve says innocently.

“I’ve known you forever. You can’t hide anything from me.” Bucky starts gathering up the dishes but stops when Steve puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Let me do that. You cooked so I’ll clean up. I might be feeling a bit guilty and I’m trying to make up for it,” Steve confesses. 

Bucky just raises an eyebrow at him. “By trying to get into my pants?” 

“Is it working?” Steve asks. 

“You’re insatiable,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes.

“You love me anyways.” Steve gathers up their plates and disappears into the kitchen. Bucky hears the sound of the dishwasher opening and the clinking of cutlery. 

“Yeah and sometimes I wonder why.” He lays back on the nest of blankets, stretching out his limbs and feeling utterly sated. He decides that he’ll have to try his hand at cooking fish again and starts trying to figure out what he could make. He’s just about to ask JARVIS for recipes when Steve comes back into the room and flops down beside him. 

“Hi,” he says breathlessly. 

“Hi yourself.” Bucky reaches out and brushes a stray lock of hair away from Steve’s forehead, smiling at him tenderly.

They haven’t had sex since Steve rescued him from the Hydra base, having been either too tired or too emotionally distressed, but Bucky feels himself finally getting into the mood. Lying there with the hem of his shirt riding up to expose his creamy white skin, Steve looks good enough to eat. “What?” 

“You’re gorgeous,” Bucky says, leaning in to steal a kiss.

“Not so bad yourself,” Steve murmurs when they break apart. He grabs Bucky by the waist and, before he knows it, Bucky finds himself flat on his back with Steve straddling him. He’s gotten over some of his shyness since their first night together, making him better at initiating. Bucky decides to let Steve take the lead and see what happens. 

He’s not disappointed when Steve goes straight for neck and begins kissing him there. “Oh god,” Bucky groans. 

Steve pulls back, shoves up his shirt, and begins to kiss up Bucky’s stomach. Bucky arches his back so he can pull his shirt over his head, then balls it up and tosses it to the side. Steve responds by kissing every patch of bare skin he can reach, working his way up from somewhere near Bucky’s navel to one his nipples, which he tugs on lightly with his teeth. 

Bucky squirms. He feels like his jeans are way too tight so he reaches down to pop the button. “Let me do that,” Steve says, catching his hand and pushing it away. 

“Well hurry up. Wanna fuck now.” Bucky thrusts his hips up. 

Steve nips him just above the waistband of his jeans. “Hey, it’s date night. I thought this was supposed to be romantic.” 

“We haven’t fucked in over a week. I’m totally willing to forgo romantic.” Bucky lifts his hips helpfully as Steve unzips his jeans and begins to tug them down over his legs, the brief wisps of his boxers following. He eyes Steve, who’s still wearing all of his clothes, and complains, “You’re overdressed Rogers.” 

“Well that’s an easy fix.” Steve pulls his shirt over his head, tosses it aside, and then wiggles out of the khaki pants he’s wearing, leaving him naked as the day he was born. He crawls over and positions himself between Bucky’s legs, kissing him deeply. 

Bucky tries to grab Steve’s ass to urge him to hurry up but is surprised when Steve grabs both of his hands and pins them above his head. Bucky lets out a loud moan. There’s something about the way Steve’s manhandling him that turns him on like nothing else. “You like that, don’t you?” Steve asks. The only response Bucky can come up with is a garbled moan. Desperate for more contact, he hooks both legs around Steve’s waist and thrusts his hips up. 

Steve stops for a moment and he’s got a surprised expression on his face as he sits back on his heels. “Steve, was it? What’s wrong?” Bucky asks worriedly. 

Steve’s suddenly looking a little shy. “Nothing, it’s just…what’s it feel like when you fuck me?” 

It suddenly dawns on Bucky that Steve doesn’t know what it’s like to bury himself in someone’s body, to lose himself to the overwhelming sensation of the pleasure of thrusting into that tight hot space until reaching orgasm. Bucky feels like an idiot for never having addressed that before so he opens his legs invitingly and says, “Why don’t you find out?” 

Steve’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “Really? You’d let me do that to you?” 

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to be surprised. “You thought I wouldn’t?” 

A blush starts creeping into Steve’s cheeks. “I’ve been reading up on it but I wasn’t sure if it was something you’d want since you seemed like you really wanted to be on top all the time. Guess I should have asked, huh?” 

“We might have to get better at communication in the bedroom,” Bucky says. 

When Steve starts to rise from the floor Bucky grabs him and yanks him back down. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“We need lube,” Steve says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Bucky’s an idiot for not thinking of it. 

Bucky jerks his thumb towards the picnic basket. “It’s in there. I thought of everything tonight.” 

Steve just rolls his eyes and fetches the tube, popping open the cap to add some onto his fingers. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes out. He can’t help but feel a little bit nervous and Steve picks up on that.

“Bucky, if you don’t want to -” 

“I want to! Just do it, okay?” 

“Okay.” Steve gently circles around Bucky’s hole, massaging with the tips of his fingers. He does that for a few minutes until Bucky starts to relax, resting his head on one of the pillows and closing his eyes. “I’m gonna try putting a finger in you. Is that okay?” 

“Go for it,” Bucky says. He’s not as confident as he sounds but he manages to remain calm enough for Steve to breach him with one finger. It’s not as uncomfortable as he imagined and, when Steve prods at his prostate, he can’t help but let out a loud groan. 

“Ready for more?”

“If you don’t I’ll kill you!” Bucky threatens. Steve bursts out laughing but he inserts another finger and gets to work massaging Bucky’s prostate. Any other protests he’s got die on his lips in favour of moaning Steve’s name. After a few moments he feels like he’s starting to get close to coming so he reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist, stilling his hand. “Not yet. Want you in me.”

Steve withdraws his fingers and frowns. “Are you sure? Maybe you should just cool down a bit and let me finger you some more.”

“I’m sure. Wanna fuck now,” Bucky insists. “Just go slow.”

Steve positions himself between Bucky’s legs and lines up his cock. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he says before slowly starting to push inside. It feels a lot different than Bucky thought it would and the sudden sensation causes him to tense up, keeping Steve from getting all the way in. He starts to pull out but Bucky grabs him by the arms, keeping him in place. 

“Just wait a minute. I’ll be okay, I swear!” He feels incredibly frustrated with himself. Steve seems to be a natural at being penetrated but Bucky’s not sure it’s something his body can do and that annoys him. After a few minutes pass he tells Steve to try again. 

“Don’t push yourself if it hurts. We can do other things,” Steve offers after a second failed attempt. 

Bucky scrubs a hand across his face in exasperation. “Why can’t I do this?” 

“It might be the position we’re in. It’s supposed to be easiest if you’re face down.” Steve shuffles back on his knees long enough for Bucky to turn onto his stomach and arrange himself on the pillows. 

“I’m ready,” Bucky tells him. He grunts in disappointment when he feels Steve move away and hears the sound of the lube being opened again. 

“I’m just gonna add a bit more lube. It might help.” Bucky cranes his neck to look behind himself and is rewarded with the tantalizing sight of Steve fisting his cock. 

“Come on Stevie, I’m ready,” Bucky urges. He tries to get his point across by thrusting his ass up in the air. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve laughs. He positions himself between Bucky’s legs once more. This time when he pushes inside it’s much easier, the extra lube and the different position allowing Steve to slide himself all the way in. He pauses to give Bucky some time to adjust to the new sensation. 

Bucky finds he can’t seem to form coherent sentences anymore. His words come out in a rush of, “OhgodSteve.” 

“You okay?” Steve asks. The only response that Bucky can manage is a string of unintelligible cursing. Steve must take this as a good sign because he starts to thrust slowly, pulling back and then pushing in as gently as possible.

“Harder,” Bucky moans. When Steve picks up the pace and nails his prostate, Bucky can’t help the scream that tears out of his throat. The pleasure is more overwhelming than he imagined and he suddenly understands why Steve likes getting fucked so much. “Oh god, oh god, Steve…feels so good.” 

His only regret is that he can’t see Steve’s face. Bucky wants to watch Steve come undone, gaze at his beautiful face he comes. “Steve, Steve, wait,” he gasps. 

Steve comes to a full stop in an instant. “Are you okay, Buck? Am I hurting you?”

“No!” Bucky’s quick to reassure him. “I just wanna see you. Let me turn over so we can try that again.” 

Steve pulls out and gives Bucky enough room to turn over before draping himself over Bucky’s body once more. He pushes inside easily now and Bucky loves every second of being able to see his boyfriend’s face contort with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” Steve pants as he starts to thrust again. 

Bucky’s lost the ability to say anything other than, “Steve, Steve, oh god…oh fuck, Steve!” as his boyfriend picks up the pace. He nails Bucky’s prostate on every other thrust and the onslaught makes Bucky scream again. He’s caught off guard when Steve slides both hands under his ass and then sits up, hauling Bucky with him and into his lap, still impaled on his cock. “Jesus Christ, Steve!”

They’re face to face now and Bucky finds that he quite likes this position because they can kiss. He grabs the back of Steve’s neck and draws him in for a sloppy open-mouthed kiss with plenty of tongue. When they pull apart Steve sinks his teeth into Bucky’s shoulder, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic as he chases the high of his orgasm. “Gonna come soon,” he mumbles against the side of Bucky’s neck. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Fucking come in me,” Bucky grunts. He reaches in between them, fisting his own cock in time with the piston-like motion of Steve’s hips. It’s all over in a matter of minutes. Steve lets out an animalistic growl and comes, filling Bucky up with a rush of warmth. It’s all too much for him and he screams again as he erupts over his fist, slumping forward bonelessly against Steve. 

For a few seconds they don’t move. Then Steve lowers Bucky down onto his back and pulls out. Bucky winces at the drag on his insides. It’s less pleasant now that he’s come but he definitely knows that he wants to try it again sometime. “Hey Buck, you with me?” Steve flops onto his back. 

“I think you wore me out,” Bucky mutters. He closes his eyes and throws one hand back across his forehead in a dramatic display of feigned exhaustion.

“So you won’t be up for a second round later on?” 

Bucky opens his eyes and reaches out to swat at Steve, missing him when Steve laughs and rolls out of the way. “Don’t put words in my mouth, punk.” 

“I’d never do that, especially when there are others thing I can put in your mouth,” Steve says lecherously. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I hate you.” 

“No you don’t. Come on, I’m gonna take a shower and you’re gonna join me.” Steve offers his hand to Bucky, who takes it and lets himself be propelled to his feet and dragged down the hall.


	41. Chapter 41

Bucky wakes up to the sound of music blaring out of Steve’s Starkphone. It’s an irritating tune that Steve decided was funny after watching a video he found on YouTube. _Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo, baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo, baby shark_ the phone blares obnoxiously. Bucky reaches over Steve’s side of the bed to where the phone is sitting on the nightstand and stabs at it repeatedly with his flesh hand. Finally he manages to turn the blasted thing off and sweet merciful silence falls. 

He groans when he remembers why he has to get up so early. It’s the morning of the ICC hearing and he’s got to look respectable. Bucky rolls out of bed and stumbles across the bedroom like a zombie in search of brains. When he arrives in the kitchen he finds Steve at the stove, making eggs and whistling that godawful shark song. 

“Hey Buck, sleep well?” he says innocently. 

“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had some coffee,” he grumbles. Bucky pours himself a cup and adds cream and sugar, all the while glaring at Steve with his best angry Winter Soldier face. 

Steve, however, seems to be impervious to it. “Want some eggs?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky’s mood improves marginally after the caffeine and food but he’s still feeling surly as all hell. Steve notices and brings him another cup of coffee.

“Hey Buck, it’s gonna be okay. We’ve been through so much together already that I don’t think there’s anything we can’t handle,” he says softly. 

“I don’t wanna do this. I’m tired and I’ve had enough. I can’t…” Bucky hides his expression behind his mug as he sips his coffee and tries not to show that he’s close to breaking down.

“Come here,” Steve says, holding out his arms. Bucky rises from his chair and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder, relaxing a fraction as he feels one of those big hands rubbing circles on his back. “I know you’re exhausted and I wish I could just take it all away for you but we’re gonna get through this together, just like we always do. And when it’s all over we’ll take a vacation.” 

“To where?” Bucky hiccups against the side of Steve’s neck. He can’t think of anywhere on earth besides the tower where they won’t be incessantly hounded by the press.

“Tony’s got a few vacation properties we can choose from. He said we’re welcome to use any of them whenever we want. 

“Sounds nice,” Bucky says quietly. He finally lifts his head from Steve’s shoulder to look him in the eyes. “I love you, Stevie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Something stupid probably,” Steve quips. Then his expression softens and he says, “I love you too,” before leaning in for a kiss. When they break apart they realize that it’s time to get ready so they take turns showering and shaving. Bucky pulls his hair back into a bun at the base of neck, hoping that it will pass Pepper’s inspection before they all get on the jet. 

Then he puts on the suit that she and JARVIS picked out for him, a charcoal gray number with a white shirt and black tie. He inspects himself in the mirror, deems his appearance acceptable, and then goes off to find his shoes. When he returns Steve’s just getting dressed, putting on a navy blue suit with a white shirt and striped tie. If Bucky wasn’t nervous about what’s yet to come he’d crack a joke or say something about Steve looking handsome. Instead he just sits down on the bed and waits. 

When Steve’s dressed they head to the roof where the quinjet is waiting and climb aboard, followed by Tony, Pepper, Natasha, and a tall, thin blonde-haired man in an expensive suit who Tony introduces as Justin Reid, the head of his legal team, who’s going to argue the case. Bucky finds himself sitting between Natasha and Steve. “What’d you do to get roped into coming?” he asks. 

Natasha just raises an eyebrow at him. “You know there’s no way I’d let you and Steve do this alone.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says. He’s silent for the rest of the flight, keeping Steve’s hand tightly clasped in his own while he watches clouds go by out the window. Feelings of nervousness begin to creep up on him, making his stomach do flips and giving him a slight feeling of nausea. Bucky leans over and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, trying to ground himself so that he doesn’t have a full on panic attack. After a few minutes he feels Steve’s lips press against his forehead. 

Finally the quinjet touches down and everyone starts preparing to disembark. Bucky looks out the window and sees that they’re in the middle of a field somewhere., nothing but rolling green acres as far as he can see. “Come on, the SUV’s waiting for us,” Steve says as he tugs on Bucky’s hand. 

Bucky can’t bring himself to move. He’s rooted to the spot with the fear and anxiety bubbling up inside of him and suddenly he wishes that he could just escape. He sucks in shallow breaths, feeling his skin start to heat up and tingle while his flesh arm begins to go numb, the sure signs that he’s panicking. “Bucky,” Steve says gently, taking a step forward. “Bucky, just breathe, okay? Take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?” 

Bucky nods. He sucks in a deep breath, holds it for a few seconds, then exhales. It doesn’t make him feel any better. “Come on Cap. We don’t wanna be late!” Tony shouts from somewhere outside the jet. 

“Just give us a minute, okay?” Steve answers. He pulls Bucky into his arms and squeezes him tightly. “You’re okay sweetheart. You’re in the quinjet with me and nothing bad’s gonna happen. You’re just a little nervous.” 

Bucky rests his head on Steve’s shoulder again, breathing in the scent of soap, something minty, and the aftershave that he favors. “I can’t do this,” he whispers. “Don’t make me do this, don’t make me go out there. I just want to go home.”

“I know you do Bucky but we can’t. If you don’t show up they’ll start looking for you. We’ve gotta do this. I know it’s hard but you won’t be alone.” Steve gives Bucky another gentle squeeze. 

Bucky finally manages to get his breathing under control but he still feels rattled. “Whatever happens, don’t leave my sight.” 

“I won’t,” Steve promises. He takes Bucky’s hand and leads him out of the quinjet to where the SUV is waiting with everyone else inside. They squish in next to one another and the driver starts the engine, taking them across the countryside and onto a main road where they pass more greenery and fields full of colourful crops. Bucky closes his eyes. His stomach is revolting again and he can’t bear to look at anything or anyone.

The trip feels like an eternity. Beside him he can feel the tension in Steve’s body, that tightly coiled energy that builds up whenever he’s feeling an adrenaline surge just before a mission, resulting in the force to be reckoned with that is Captain America. Bucky leans into him and revels in it. He knows Steve will protect him at any cost, just like when they fought together. 

They come to a stop and Bucky opens his eyes to see the front steps of the building where the ICC meets. He gets out onto shaking legs and leans against the side of the SUV, trying to quell the feeling of panic rising up in him by taking deep breaths. The place is crawling with members of the press who’ve gotten wind of the proceedings and Bucky shrinks back, trying to make himself less conspicuous. 

Steve wraps an arm around his waist and propels him along. Bucky follows, his body reacting on autopilot while his mind tries to block out the overwhelming stimuli of the reporters shouting at him in several different languages, the flashes of cameras going off, and the way that Steve is gripping him tightly. He barely registers anything going on around him until they’re inside of a building being escorted down a long hallway. 

Bucky’s pretty sure that he appears stoic on the outside but he knows that Steve can tell just how badly affected he is. He keeps his eyes on Bucky until they reach the courtroom, a large wood paneled room filled with nothing but rows of wooden seats and some desks. Security leads them up front and then directs Bucky and Justin Reid to sit at one of the tables at the front while Steve, Pepper, Natasha, and Tony are allowed to sit in the benches behind them. Just before he steps away, Bucky feels a hand on his shoulder and suddenly Steve is leaning over to whisper in his ear, “It’s gonna be okay, Buck. I’m with you till the end of the line.” Bucky can’t find the words to say anything back so he just reaches a hand out for Steve. He catches the sleeve of Steve’s jacket and gives him what he hopes is a brave face but he’s pretty sure he fails miserably. 

The court session begins with three people dressed in black robes with some sort of white frilly collars filing in to take their seats. Justin Reid stands and makes a motion for the rest of them to follow suit. Bucky’s already on his feet, having spent several hours being briefed on courtroom procedure and how to answer questions. Once they’re allowed to be seated again, the hearing begins. Bucky tries to make sure that he sits still and listens intently, even though his brain is screaming at him to run and his flesh hand is shaking. 

The presiding judge of the court clears his throat and then begins to speak. “This hearing is now open. Good morning to you all, ladies and gentlemen. Without further ado, I would like the court officer to call the case.” 

The court officer, a short dark-haired man with a square jawline, stands up. “Good morning Mr. President and your honours. We are present for the hearing involving Russia, Japan, Australia, Yemen, Canada, America, Lebanon, China, India, Ireland, Germany, France, and Israel in the case of the prosecutor versus James Buchanan Barnes, case reference ICC-oh one-fourteen-oh two-eighteen. For the record we’re now in open session.”

The presiding judge then forces everyone to introduce themselves. Bucky fidgets nervously with the cuff of his suit jacket, feeling very much like he wants them to just get on with it and dispense with all of the formalities. Finally it’s his turn. He’s ordered to state his name, his date of birth, and the place where he was born. Hesitantly, he manages to stutter out, “James Buchanan Barnes, born March tenth, nineteen seventeen in Brooklyn, New York, America.” 

Bucky is then asked to confirm that he’s been informed of the charges he’s facing for his crimes. He simply acknowledges it with a soft, “Yes, sir.” The court has been thorough. Bucky knows that he’s facing a minimum of thirty counts of first degree murder, along with twenty-one for kidnapping, five for arson, six for robbery, one for treason, and another three for burglary. When presented with that staggering list he’d immediately panicked and it had taken Steve nearly an hour to calm him down. 

“Very well then. Let’s get started,” the presiding judge says.

Bucky watches as Reid addresses the court. “Your honour, I would like to file a motion to dismiss. My client was not aware of or in control of his actions at the time of the crimes he committed. He’s a war hero who was kidnapped by an evil organization that forced him to do unspeakable things. He’s remorseful, wants to make amends, and has no intentions of ever being anything but a law-abiding citizen again. I can submit substantial proof that he was tortured, brainwashed, and coerced in his actions. Mr. Barnes is the world’s longest serving prisoner of war and should be treated as such.”

The two other members of the court are frowning and the one on the far right is shaking her head. Then the presiding judge makes his verdict. “You may claim that, Mr. Reid, but due to the high number of charges and the number of countries involved we simply cannot dismiss the charges against him.” 

Bucky’s breathing quickens and he chews on his lower lip, fighting to regain his composure so he doesn’t break down on the spot. Reid seems to take it all in stride though. “I would then like to ask that my client be released on his own recognizance or into the custody of the Avengers since he isn’t a flight risk. He has willingly appeared here before the court today and will return for any subsequent pre-trial motions.” 

The judge is not to be swayed, however. He looks straight at Bucky and says, “Due to the dangerous nature of your client I’m not inclined to agree. The defendant is to be held in custody without bail until the trial.”

Behind him, Bucky can hear Tony’s, “Oh shit,” and Steve’s angry exhale of breath. He feels like the floor has been yanked out from under him. His breath is coming in short, sharp gasps and he wheels around to face his friends. 

“Steve,” he whispers.

Steve comes as close as he’s allowed and says, “It’s gonna be all right, Bucky. Just remember that I love you and that we’re all gonna fight for you. You just have to be brave.”

Bucky finds himself fighting back tears as the bailiffs cuff him and start leading him away. He goes willingly, not wanting to cause a scene that could jeopardize his chances of ever going free. He lets them take him out the back of the courtroom, down another long hallway, and then put him into a holding cell. Bucky’s told that he’ll wait there until he’s transferred to the prison and then they leave him alone.

The cell is small but clean with gray and white cinder block walls and a wooden bench that’s bolted to the floor. Bucky sits down on it. He buries his face in his cuffed hands and finally lets the tears fall. _This is what you deserve for perpetuating so much pain and suffering in the world,_ he tells himself. It doesn’t make it any easier to swallow though. Bucky would give anything to be back in the tower with Steve, curled up in bed together while sharing lazy kisses. He wonders if he’ll ever see Steve outside of a courtroom again. 

The wait is agonizing. Bucky can do nothing but sit there until someone comes. Eventually four armed guards show up and tell him that he’s being transferred to the prison. They’ve got a fifth man with them, wearing plain clothes that Bucky doesn’t like the looks of. He’s small statured and balding with sharp brown eyes framed by prominent crow’s feet and an expression of annoyance. “This is what you’ve brought me here for?” he asks. 

“Make no mistake, Dr. Ruys, this man is dangerous. That’s why we’ve requested your expertise. We’re lucky he’s co-operative at the moment but we’d like to minimize the chance of escape,” one of the guards speaks up. 

Dr. Ruys frowns. “My expertise is in cybernetics. You have no need of me.”

“On the contrary, we do. Stand up and hold out your hands,” the guard instructs. Bucky shuffles up to the front of the cell and presents both hands for inspection. The suit covers his arm up to the wrist but there’s no mistaking, even in the dim lights of the cell, that his left hand will be of interest to the man. 

Dr. Ruys studies it carefully for a moment and then scoffs, “Very well. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

Bucky’s starting to feel incredibly nervous. Whatever they’re planning on doing to him can’t be good and he backs away in fear. He knows he’s strong and well-trained enough that he could take out all four guards, plus the scientist, and escape easily but then he’d be on the run, a fugitive again, and that’s exactly what Steve doesn’t want. Bucky wants to be good for Steve. He can’t disappoint Steve, even if that means taking whatever horrible punishment these men are going to dole out. 

Dr. Ruys returns again and he’s got a briefcase with him that he hands to the nearest guard. “Unlock the cuffs.”

“Are you that’s a good idea?” one of the guards questions. 

Dr. Ruys looks visibly annoyed again. “Unlock the cuffs. I haven’t got all day. I’m supposed to be at a press conference in thirty minutes.”

Bucky nervously co-operates, holding his hands out through the cell bars so one of the guards can take the cuffs off him. His right wrist is sore but he doesn’t want to risk moving in a way that they could interpret as violence. Dr. Ruys opens the briefcase to reveal something that looks a wristwatch on a thin band and he lifts it out as if it’s his most prized possession in the world. Without any sign of fear, he reaches for Bucky’s left wrist and snaps the band around it.

Something akin to an electric shock races up his arm and he cries out in pain, dropping to the floor with the agony of it. It travels all the way into his brain, burning bright spots into his vision and causing him to convulse violently for a few seconds. Then, just as quickly as it came, it’s gone. Bucky whimpers and curls in on himself. 

“He should be fine now. I’ve interrupted the neurotransmissions from his arm to his brain. He won’t be able to use it until I unlock the bracelet,” Dr. Ruys explains.

“He won’t be able to get it off himself, right?” one of the guards asks. 

“It’s keyed to my biometric signature. If anyone but me tries anything they’re in for a nasty surprise.” Dr. Ruys smirks at the guards. “Now, if you have no other questions, I’d best be on my way.” 

The guards order Bucky to stand but he feels extremely weak from the shock he’s just experienced. He makes an effort but ends up crashing to his knees again on the cold floor. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he hears one of the men mutter and then there’s a clanging noise as his cell door is opened. He’s picked up and dragged out of the cell, through a long hallway, and out into the open air, where he’s put into the back of a van and made to sit on a bench. One of the guards cuffs his flesh hand to the bench and then shuts the door. 

It’s only then that Bucky realizes what’s just happened. His left arm hangs limply at his side and he’s unable to make it move no matter how hard he wills something to happen. He closes his eyes and tries to stave off some of the dizziness he feels threatening to overwhelm him. Steve said to be brave, to remember that there are plenty of people on their side, plus Bucky could probably fight his way out if he desperately needed to. There’s some small comfort in that and he feels himself relax a fraction of an inch. 

The van comes to a stop and someone opens the doors. When his cuff is taken off, he stumbles along, flanked by a multitude of guards, who take him through several locked gates and into another cell. He spends more time waiting there until the guards come for him again. Bucky doesn’t fight or argue as he’s searched, forced to put on an orange jumpsuit, and then given a basic medical exam. It’s hard to get out of his suit with only one functional arm but he manages clumsily. 

The one surprise of the entire ordeal is the cell he’s put into. It’s basic but a lot more comfortable than he thought it’d be. He’s slept in a lot of terrible places, both in the war and as the Soldier. Bucky sits down on the bed and thinks of Steve’s words again. _Remember that I love you. Be brave._ Bucky’s not usually a man of faith but he believes those words more fervently than any prayer.


	42. Chapter 42

It’s been four days since Bucky was arrested and he’s itching with excitement because he’s now allowed visitors. He’s sitting in a windowless cinder block room on a cold plastic chair, hoping desperately that he’ll be able to see Steve. He shifts uncomfortably. The left side of his back is extremely sore with the dead weight of the arm pulling on it and he’s had to improvise by fashioning a sling out of one of his bed sheets to get some relief. 

The door to the room opens and Justin Reid strides in, all business in a three piece blue suit with his briefcase dangling from his hand. He’s followed by Steve, who looks way more casual in jeans and a sweater. “Stevie!” Bucky cries the minute he catches sight of him. 

Steve rushes over to him and envelops him in a crushing hug. “Bucky, oh I’m so glad you’re okay. Let me look at you.” When he pulls back his eyes land on Bucky’s metal arm. “What happened to your arm?” 

“They deactivated it. It’s pretty much dead weight now so I’ve got it in a sling to keep my back from hurting,” Bucky explains. He pulls back part of the sling to show the bracelet on his wrist. “There’s no way to get this off.” 

Steve’s face has reddened and Bucky can see the rage starting to boil under the surface, the fire in his eyes. He wheels around on Reid and snaps, “This isn’t fair! He’s co-operating and they pull this shit?” 

Reid eyes them both calmly and says, “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do since the prison is within their rights to secure any potential threats. Unless Mr. Barnes is clearly being mistreated he’ll just have to live with it.” 

“This is mistreatment! It’s causing him pain!” Steve insists. 

“It’s fine Stevie, really it is. As long as I wear the sling I’m not hurting any.” Bucky tries to smooth the situation over, hoping that they can just get on with the rest of the visit and not have Steve and Reid come to blows. Some of Steve’s anger drains out of him but he still throws a dirty look in Reid’s direction. Bucky sits down in one of the chairs across the table and motions for Steve to do the same. Reluctantly, he lets the subject drop and takes a seat. “How long til I can get out of here?” Bucky asks.

“There’s no definitive timeline but we’re doing everything we can. Just sit tight and keep out of trouble and it should be fine though,” Reid says smoothly. “Now, we should discuss the specifics of our defense. Our team has been working on this for quite some time and I’d like to brief you on what we’ve done.” 

Bucky tries to pay attention as Reid begins to drone on but his focus is half on Steve, who’s sitting on his right. He reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Steve squeezes right back and doesn’t let go. Bucky can see the worry coursing through him, the fear that they’re going to be separated forever obviously brewing in the back of his mind. He wishes he could close his eyes and will all of this away, putting them back on their floor in the tower, eating good food and watching Disney movies on the couch. 

He jerks his attention back to reality and forces himself to focus on what Reid’s telling him. If he stands any chance of getting out of prison he’s going to need all the help he can get. It takes nearly an hour for Reid to go through the ins and outs of the defense plan but finally he wraps up and steps out of the room, giving Bucky and Steve a few minutes alone before the guards escort them out. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Steve murmurs as he tucks his face into the side of Bucky’s neck.

“I’ve missed you too. I just want to go home.” To his surprise Bucky finds himself starting to feel choked up. 

It takes all of his self control not to cry, especially when he hears Steve say, “I know, Buck. There’s nothing more in the world that I want too. I know it’s hard but just be brave and keep out of trouble for a bit longer. I promise I’ll get you out of here, no matter what it costs me.” When he pulls back his eyes are bright with unshed tears. 

Bucky manages to swallow past the lump in his throat but has trouble keeping his voice steady. It trembles as he replies, “Yeah, I can do that for you Stevie.” 

There’s a knock at the door and Reid it opens a crack. “It’s time to go.” 

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and gives him a searing kiss. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

Reluctantly, they part. Steve and Reid leave the prison while Bucky is escorted back to his cell. He tries to tell himself that it won’t be long and he’ll be able to leave all of this behind, hopefully a few days to a week or two at most. The court has to drop the charges, especially with all of his friends there to provide evidence that he wasn’t in control of his actions. 

Bucky’s hope is short lived. The days turn into a week, then two weeks, then three, until finally he’s been in prison for an entire month. He tries his best to keep his promise to Steve and keep out of trouble so he mostly avoids the other prisoners, calling up the Winter Soldier’s persona of being both dangerous and aloof. He speaks to no one, even though that makes his existence a lot lonelier, spending a lot of time either alone in his cell or in the prison library, reading. 

Eventually one month turns into two, then three. Steve visits as often as he can, sometimes with Reid in tow and sometimes by himself. The only time they get any privacy is after Reid’s done giving updates on the case and excuses himself from the room for the last few moments of the visit. When Steve is there alone they’re required to meet in the public visiting room, often in the company of other prisoners. They don’t show any affection towards each other that could give away their relationship, wanting to be cautious because they don’t know who’s watching. Bucky’s overheard other prisoners saying derogatory things about gay people and he wants to stay under the radar. He hates not being able to touch even more than he hates seeing the heartbreak in Steve’s eyes just before they have to part. All he wants is for Steve to hold him and never let go.

“Justice takes a ridiculous amount of time. We’ve finished the preliminary hearings and they still want to go ahead with the indictment so now we move on to the pre-trial motions,” Reid explains. 

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Bucky mutters. Beside him, Steve squeezes his hand. He has dark circles under his eyes and Bucky can tell that he’s thoroughly exhausted.

“I have trouble sleeping without you there,” Steve admits once they have a few seconds alone. “Plus it’s been so long since I’ve seen my own bed.” He’s been staying in a hotel since they arrived. Tony, Natasha, and Pepper have flown back to the tower to keep an eye on Avengers-related things until they go to trial. 

“At least promise you’ll try to sleep, sweetheart. I’m worried about you.” Bucky pulls him close for a gentle kiss but it’s short-lived. It’s nearly time for Steve to leave again.

“Not as much as I’m worried about you,” Steve counters.

The third month turns into a fourth and Bucky feels like he’s going crazy. He’s lonely as hell, oftentimes bored out of his mind, and the aching in his back has become a near constant companion, disrupting his sleep and making his waking moments uncomfortable. Then one day something happens to make him feel just a bit more human again. 

Bucky’s eating in the cafeteria when a man slides into the seat across from him and grins. He’s very tall, heavyset with dark skin and brown eyes that look at Bucky with a keen interest. “So, you’re the one everyone’s afraid of,” he comments in heavily accented English. 

“They don’t have a reason to be,” Bucky says dully. 

“I would agree since the other prisoners tell me that you talk to no one and keep to yourself. However, your reputation proceeds you. It’s a bit hard not to recognize the Winter Soldier, especially when the entire prison has been whispering about him.” 

“So why aren’t you afraid?” Bucky asks as moodily stabs at his plate. 

The man gives him a wry smile. “Everyone in here is the most feared person in the world to someone. That’s why we’re here.” 

Bucky eyes the man suspiciously for a moment, letting the Soldier’s instincts rise to the surface to judge him but finds nothing other than a bit of curiosity. “Who’s afraid of you?” 

“A lot of people. Allow me to introduce myself; I am N’Kami Mizunga.” He doesn’t look at all intimidated by the Soldier’s cold calculating stare. 

Bucky knows he’s heard that name somewhere before. Then he remembers a news report from several months ago and it dawns on him. “The Warlord of Wakanda.” 

“Only to some people,” N’Kami chuckles. “I prefer to think of myself as more of a businessman. In the immediate aftermath of King T’Chaka’s death there was a great deal of chaos and I merely sought to capitalize on it. If the people want to cause civil unrest that’s up to them. Weapons can be bought and sold anywhere.” 

Bucky finishes his lunch and carefully sets the tray aside. “You’ve murdered people for profit.”

“And you haven’t? You fought in someone else’s war when you’d barely become a man,” N’Kami says. 

Bucky glowers at him and growls, “I served my country. The Nazis had plans to conquer the world and I helped put a stop to it. You can’t tell me that’s any better than having your freedom.” 

“Look around you. You’re not free,” N’Kami points out.

“But I will be. My friends are going to get me out of here.”

N’Kami throws back his head and laughs. “I suppose your odds are better than mine, given that the great Captain America is your friend. 

Bucky can only nod. “I hope so.” He gets up from the table and grabs his tray to take it to the bin when N’Kami stops him with a hand on his arm. Bucky narrowly manages not to recoil, reminding himself that this man has only wanted to talk so far and hasn’t shown the slightest inkling towards violence. 

“Do you play chess Mr. Barnes?” N’Kami asks.

“I used to play, back in the war.” 

“I play chess every day in the library at three o’clock if I can find a suitable opponent. Ask the guards to escort you there and we shall see who has the sharper mind.” 

Bucky’s not sure if it’s the boredom with his routine or the longing he feels for some companionship but he finds himself agreeing. After a few days chess becomes part of his regular routine. He still doesn’t talk much, not wanting to give away too many details but none of the other prisoners seem to care much about that. N’Kami, however, seems quite happy to give Bucky details on his life leading up to his incarceration. 

One day while Bucky’s contemplating whether to move his pawn or his knight, N’Kami says casually, “You know, the press only calls me the Warlord of Wakanda because the alliteration makes for a nice headline. I am only half Wakandan. I spent many of my formative years in Sudan, where my mother is from.” 

Bucky frowns at the pieces on the board. “So your father’s Wakandan? What was he doing in Sudan?” 

“Foreign aid,” N’Kami answers simply. 

“I thought Wakanda wasn’t big on that sort of thing. They tend to keep their borders pretty closed off,” Bucky says. He decides on moving his pawn.

“My father and some of his colleagues had other ideas. They weren’t supported by the king but they had enough financial backing to travel. My father met my mother while he was there and they married and had me. We lived in Sudan until I was nine. Then my father and I returned to Wakanda.” 

“And your mother?” Bucky can’t help asking. 

“She had to remain as she was not a Wakandan citizen. The second war was happening and there was no time for my father to petition the king to allow her entrance to the country because we had to leave quickly. He promised he would send for her. The king turned him into a liar,” N’Kami answers. 

“Is that why you don’t care about the unrest in the country?” Bucky asks. 

N’Kami hesitates for a moment but then seems to decide he wants to answer the question. “One of the reasons why. That and peace doesn’t exactly provide me with much profit.” He moves one of his pawns. 

“Nobody profits in war,” Bucky mutters. He studies the board again, wondering how he can manage to avoid his rook being captured but then decides to sacrifice it and go with a different strategy. 

“And what about you? You’re a man out of his time,” N’Kami remarks. Bucky gets the feeling that the man is trying to distract him so he concentrates on making his move before answering. 

“I guess that’s a good way to describe it. I should have died, probably more than once by now but I can’t seem to manage it.” Bucky shrugs.

“You seem very reluctant to answer questions about yourself.” N’Kami looks like he’s about to move a pawn but then changes his mind and moves a knight instead.

“I’ve spent a long time answering people’s questions.” Bucky’s almost sure to lose now. N’Kami is a far superior chess player than him and he’s really just avoiding checkmate at this point. He makes a move but feels like it’s futile. 

N’Kami grins at him. “Grant me one and I will spare you from losing this turn.” 

“Go ahead.” Bucky scowls at him. 

“Why are you not able to use your arm?” 

“Because some crazy mad scientist put a bracelet on it that keeps it deactivated,” Bucky says. 

“Does it hurt?” N’Kami asks. 

“That’s two questions but yes, yes it does hurt,” Bucky says.

N’Kami moves his knight and the corners of his lips quirk up. “Checkmate. Same time tomorrow then, Mr. Barnes?” 

“Sure,” Bucky finds himself agreeing. “Not like I have anything else to do.” It’s the truth. Aside from the basics of eating, sleeping, and grooming himself there’s very little to occupy his day unless Steve visits. He both looks forward to and worries about seeing Steve again. 

Every time Steve appears he looks more and more tired. There are bags under his eyes and at one point he nearly falls asleep in his chair. Justin Reid lets slip that Steve has been spending every spare moment of his time doing research, trying to find anything that will give them an edge to get Bucky out of prison and it’s been eating into his sleep. 

“Stop it,” Bucky tells Steve and he cringes at how much he sounds like his mother. “Don’t go making yourself sick and tired over me. I’m not worth it.”

“You’re worth every second,” Steve mumbles against Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky gently pushes him away and slips a knuckle under his chin so their eyes can meet. “You listen to me, Steven Grant Rogers. When you leave here you’re going to go straight to your hotel and climb into bed. If I find out that you’ve been neglecting yourself there’s going to be hell to pay on our next visit!”

“How are you going to know?” Steve asks defiantly. 

“The same way I found out in the first place - Justin.” 

“So we’re on a first-name basis with him now?” Steve questions. 

Bucky just nods and grins. “Might as well be if he’s going to be my spy.”

Steve huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes. “I hate you sometimes, you know that?” 

“No you don’t,” Bucky says. 

“No, I don’t,” Steve sighs. “But I do wonder why I put up with you sometimes.” 

“Because you love me. Now give me a kiss before you have to go. Justin’s probably outside the door going crazy because he’s itching to go back to the hotel and send Tony another bill.”

The next time they meet Steve looks considerably more rested. He tells Bucky that he decided he hated the hotel and has rented a small, furnished efficiency apartment for himself. It’s not exactly home but the feeling that it’s “his” seems to make him a little more comfortable. Reid has elected to stay at the hotel on Tony’s dime.

“I’m glad you’re doing better, Stevie. I’ve been so worried about you,” Bucky says.

“I’ll be okay. Do I need to worry about you?” Steve looks concerned. 

“No, I’m okay, I promise,” Bucky says, holding up his good hand when it looks like Steve’s going to protest. “If anything changes I’ll let you know.” 

Bucky doesn’t tell him about the ache that’s constantly present in his back or how the sling is only marginally effective some days. He doesn’t tell Steve how little sleep he’s been getting himself, having a hard time getting himself into a comfortable position on the narrow bed in his cell. He doesn’t mention the nightmares he experiences or the all-consuming fear that he feels whenever he’s got enough time to think, imagining the absolute worst-case scenario for his upcoming trial. 

He also doesn’t tell Steve that he’s been playing chess with a warmongering arms dealer to ease his loneliness or that sometimes he misses Steve so bad it feels like an almost physical ache in his chest. He doesn’t mention that sometimes at night, when the cell door locks behind him, he curls up on his bed and cries.

He needs to spare Steve the pain of knowing because those things will keep him up at night, using every scrap of that dogged determination he’s had ever since he was a skinny kid back in Brooklyn. Instead Bucky keeps telling Steve that he’s okay. He has to be in order to keep Steve from falling apart. 

Bucky will do whatever it takes to hold him together.


	43. Chapter 43

“So,” Bucky says to N’Kami one day when they’re playing chess, “how long have you been here? 

N’Kami makes his move, then sits back in his chair and smirks. “Nearly two years.”

“Two years?!” Bucky sputters. 

“I have a very good lawyer, the best that my money can buy. He keeps the hearings at a standstill and I get to stay here.” N’Kami gestures for Bucky to go ahead.

Bucky quickly moves one of his pawns and then returns to gaping at his companion. “Why would you want to stay here?” 

“Well, believe it or not, I do not wish to return to Wakanda. This prison is much nicer than any they have over there,” N’Kami chuckles. He moves a rook and then continues, “Our prisoners are are forced to do hard labour in the Vibranium mines and there are fewer comforts. Austerity is thought to help reform people by making them appreciate the life they could have if they were law abiding citizens. Me, I will never be one of them, so that is why I pay my lawyer to stall off the trial.” 

Bucky considers this while staring at the chess board. After a few moments he decides to move his king and then returns his attention to N’Kami. “If you were extradited you’d at least get to go home again. Isn’t there anything or anyone you want to see?” 

N’Kami shakes his head. “No, everyone I care about is dead.” He surveys the chess board with a cold calculating precision and then decides to move his rook again. 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky captures one of N’Kami’s pawns and decides that counts as a small victory, even though he’s most likely to lose again. “My family are all gone. All I have left is Steve.”

“I suppose you have a lot in common, both being men out of your own time. The world has changed much in over seventy years. If I were to wake up tomorrow and find everything was different I’m not sure I could cope,” N’Kami says. 

“In a way, Steve had it easier. He was asleep the entire time while I was being defrosted over and over again to do Hydra’s bidding and then having my memory wiped.” Bucky doesn’t mean for the words to come out bitter but he can’t help it. He’s so tired and his back is aching so badly that he doesn’t have the strength to pretend everything’s fine today. 

“You resent him for it?” N’Kami asks. He moves his bishop, circling ever closer to yet another win as he takes out one of Bucky’s pawns.

“No, not really. It wasn’t his fault and if there’s anyone I should be angry at it’s Hydra. Sometimes it’s all just…too heavy.” Bucky makes a desperate move with one of his few remaining chess pieces but realizes it’s all over when his companion smiles at him.

“It must be very hard to be away from him though. He’s the only bit of home you have.” N’Kami moves his knight and his smile gets even bigger. “Checkmate.” 

“Dammit! Can’t you just let me win once in awhile?” Bucky complains. 

“What would be the fun in that? I enjoy besting you almost daily,” N’Kami laughs. 

Bucky glowers at him. “Yeah, sure, rub it in why don’t you? And you’re right about Steve. He’s the only one left who remembers what it was like living in the forties. I tell some of our other friends about it and they just make stupid jokes but Steve actually knows what we went through.”

“Life wasn’t all sunshine and roses back then?” N’Kami presses. 

Bucky shakes his head. “We were really fucking poor. Life was hard but we had each other.” 

“That sounds like the sort of bond that is only born out of two people sharing a common struggle. Others will never understand. My father and I had that with both of us knowing the pain of leaving Sudan and having to leave my mother behind. Now that he’s gone there is only me. Some day it may be the same for you so you should hold on to the friendship you have now and never forget,” N’Kami says. 

Bucky has nothing to say to that. He just swallows hard and then finds his voice to thank N’Kami for the chess game and to say that they’ll meet again soon. He spends the rest of the afternoon in the prison library, trying to read a book on space travel and failing miserably. He misses Steve. It’s been nearly five months now and, despite Reid’s assurances, the possibility of ever leaving the prison seems out of reach. 

The lonely day stretches into a rough night, full of nightmares about blood and gore and Hydra wiping his memory at every turn. After they’ve faded, Bucky finds he can’t get comfortable on the tiny bed in his cell, no matter what position he takes or where he puts his pillow. Eventually he gives up. He spends most of the night sitting on his bed, trying to read a book he checked out of the prison library but not taking much of it in. Come morning he’s exhausted. 

Steve and Justin Reid visit him later that day and Bucky can tell that they’re both worried about him. “We’re finished with the pre-trial stuff. The court’s set a date for the actual trial but it’s not for another two months,” Reid says apologetically. 

Bucky can’t bring himself to get upset anymore. With a calm, resigned tone of acceptance he just says, “Okay.” Steve reaches out to grasp his flesh hand and squeezes it. 

“Are you in pain?” he asks.

“My back,” Bucky bites out. The pain is a constant companion these days with the muscles in his back and up the side of his neck screaming at him. 

“Oh Bucky, I’m so sorry.” Steve has the expression of a kicked puppy on his face and it breaks Bucky’s heart to see it. He doesn’t want Steve to worry about him but he can’t put on a brave front anymore because the exhaustion and pain have broken him down. Steve has Bucky turn his chair around and sit on it backwards. Then he stands behind Bucky and begins to massage the affected areas, digging into the knots to provide some much needed relief. 

“Have you tried going to the infirmary? Maybe there’s something they can do for you there,” Reid suggests.

“I did. They gave me a better sling and some pain meds that didn’t do anything because they don’t have anything stronger. I burn through them too fast for them to have any effect. They don’t have anyone on staff here who knows about cybernetics and that asshole who deactivated my arm is apparently nowhere to be found.” Bucky groans as Steve digs into a really sore spot close to his prosthesis, eyes falling closed. 

Reid seems to be determined to go through with the rest of the meeting as he steers the conversation back to the trial. Bucky gets the feeling that he and Steve could start groping each other and the man would still keep droning on. “We’re going to have you plead not guilty and then go through the details of the torture you experienced at the hands of Hydra. The files will be entered into evidence, then the video footage will be shown to the court. We’re going to stress just how evil Hydra are. The crimes you committed were through no fault of your own and you were either under duress or not aware of the severity of your actions due to the torture and brainwashing.” 

“I know,” Bucky sighs as Steve digs into another particularly hard knot in his back. “I just want to get this over with.” 

“I understand, Buck. I know this is way harder on you than it is on us but there’s not a whole lot we can do until the trial. Please just try to hang in there, for me,” Steve pleads. 

Bucky never could refuse a request from Steve. It’s rare that he asks for things, always thinking of others before himself, so Bucky can give him this one thing. “Okay, Stevie. I’ll do my best.” He turns his head and tries to smile but he knows that it just ends up looking strained. 

“That’s all I ask,” Steve murmurs before leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“We’ve already laid out the defense strategy but I want to walk you through some questions and advise you on how to answer them,” Reid persists. 

Bucky shrugs his one good shoulder at him. “Fire away then.” It takes the rest of their allotted time to go over everything but he does get a few seconds of alone time with Steve right before he’s escorted out. 

After a gentle kiss, Steve grips Bucky tightly and says, “I love you. This is going to be a lot of work but anything worth doing usually is. No matter what happens I’ll fight for you.”

Bucky feels his eyes start to burn and in seconds he’s blinking back tears. “I just want to go home,” he whispers against Steve’s shoulder. 

“I know you do. Stay strong for just a little longer and I promise I’ll be waiting for you.” Reluctantly Steve lets go and steps out the door. After Bucky’s taken back to his cell, he sits on his bed staring at the wall and tries not to start crying. He’s exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and there’s nothing that will fix it, short of attempting a prison break. 

“You look terrible Mr. Barnes,” N’Kami remarks when they meet for chess one day.

“Thanks,” Bucky says sarcastically as he begins to set the pieces on the board. 

“You are not a man who can find a way to enjoy his captivity, right?” N’Kami turns the board so that he’s playing with the white pieces this time. Bucky never cares which colour he plays so he doesn’t protest. 

“I have a reason to stay out of captivity,” he mutters as he watches N’Kami make the first move. 

“Your boyfriend?” N’Kami says, grinning. His statement has the desired effect, causing Bucky to completely forget the move he was planning to make. 

Instead he hastily moves a pawn at random and swallows hard. “He’s not my boyfriend.” It pains him to say such a thing but he doesn’t know what his companion’s views are on gay people and there may be other prisoners listening. 

N’Kami moves another pawn and looks at Bucky with an amused expression. “We Wakandans are much more open-minded than the rest of the world thinks. What Americans call ‘marriage equality’ we simply call marriage. It has been that way for centuries.” 

Bucky tries not to look as worried as he feels, schooling his face into a carefully neutral expression. “Steve and I are friends, nothing more.” He wonders how N’Kami could possibly have known. Prisoners aren’t allowed any outside media, being restricted to the prison library that consists solely of books, music, and a collection of very dated films. There’s no way anyone could have seen the furor around the press conference he and Steve held. 

Some of his trepidation must show on his face because N’Kami leans in and says quietly, “Most of our friends here are not very observant. It’s something you only see when you are very attuned to the small details around you, like the way you look at each other when you have to say good-bye. I wouldn’t worry too much if anyone else figures it out though. They are afraid of you. Even with one arm you could probably kill most of them in seconds. 

Bucky tries to relax and takes a few deep breaths before he decides to move another of his chess pieces. “I don’t want anyone to be afraid of me. I want to go home and be Bucky Barnes, not the weapon those assholes turned me into.” 

“I have a feeling you will. You are most determined.” N’Kami moves another one of his chess pieces and smiles at Bucky. “Checkmate.” 

“Fuck! How the hell did you manage that?” 

“It helps to keep your opponent distracted.” 

Bucky tries to keep himself suitably occupied while he awaits trial. He spends most of his time either in the library or in his cell, trying to keep his mind off the trial by reading books about chess and coming up with new strategies. His skills improve so much that N’Kami actually begins to have more difficulty beating him. Bucky still loses a lot but at least he’s able to put up a better defense. 

When he’s near the middle of his fifth month behind bars, he feels a restlessness settle into his bones that he just can’t seem to shake. Nothing takes his mind off of just how trapped he is and how badly it could go for him. Bucky can’t stop thinking that this could be his future. He thinks he’d rather die than be separated from Steve for the rest of his life, however long it’s going to be due to the effects of the serum. 

Bucky tries to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind but, before long, he finds himself contemplating suicide and how he can get away with it without anyone noticing until it’s too late. He’s not sleeping properly if at all, plagued by nightmares and the ever-present pain from his deactivated arm. Some nights it feels as if the walls are closing in on him. 

The next time he meets with Steve, it’s impossible to hide the effect that prison life is having on him. Bucky can’t stand to see the worry in his boyfriend’s eyes so he makes the usual promises of not giving up, of waiting patiently to be bailed out of this mess he’s in. “I know it’s hard. Please just hang on for a little longer,” Steve pleads just before they part. 

“Okay,” Bucky whispers but it’s a token agreement at best. Back in his cell he looks for anything that could be used to take his own life and finds nothing. Feeling resigned to staying alive, he collapses onto his narrow bed and cries. 

“You are looking very bad my friend,” N’Kami comments during one of their games. 

Bucky drops his head into his hand and pulls on his hair. “Has anyone ever successfully killed themselves around here?”

“Not in a very long time and I would advise against trying. Suicide watch is not a fun place to be,” N’Kami warns.

“Nowhere in this godforsaken hell hole is a fun place to be.” Bucky grabs the chessboard and opens it up onto the table.

“Do you want to spend twenty-four hours a day in a small windowless room with nothing but a bed and a toilet? There are no friends there, no books, certainly no chess games, and nothing but your own mind to occupy you. I suspect that would go very badly for you,” N’Kami says and his tone almost sounds angry. 

“How do you know that?” Bucky demands. He busies himself with setting up the white pieces on his end of the board. 

“Because I have been there,” N’Kami answers. 

This catches Bucky’s attention and he freezes for a moment, eyes widening in surprise at the confession. “How did you get here then?” 

“I accepted that there are things I cannot change. I cannot change the things I have done or the sort of man I am because those opportunities have passed. I cannot change that I ended up here because it was all my own doing. All I can do is accept that I am here and there is nothing I can do.” N’Kami shrugs at him. 

“Yeah, well I’m here because of things I had no say in doing. How do you deal with that?” Bucky can’t help the sour tone that seeps into his voice but he’s exhausted and at the end of his rope emotionally. 

“You wait. You are in limbo Mr. Barnes but not for long. How many years do you think you will live? Another hundred? If you go free, what is a few months to a year in that lifespan? It is but a drop in the ocean.” N’Kami gestures for Bucky to make the first move.

After a bit of careful decision he plays it safe and moves a pawn. “Or I could be convicted and spend the rest of my fucking life behind bars in prison. I’d rather die.” 

N’Kami contemplates his move for a moment, reaches for a rook, and then changes his mind. He decides to move a knight instead. “Or you could run. You are certainly capable of it.” 

Bucky shakes his head. “If I run, Steve will follow me to the ends of the earth. I don’t want him to end up a fugitive.”

“So what will you do?” 

“I’ll wait.” 

Waiting proves to be harder than Bucky anticipated. He holds out as long he can until finally the anger and pain building up inside of him becomes too much and he puts his fist through a mirror in the bathroom. The guards hover nervously for a moment, stun guns drawn, but when they realize that he’s not going to put up a fight they drag him to the infirmary to be patched up. 

After the nurse bandages his hand and gives him another dose of the ineffective pain killers, Bucky’s put in a cell close to the guard station that looks exactly as N’Kami described. There’s nothing in it save for a low, narrow bed with a thin gray mattress pad, a toilet, and a sink. Bucky sinks to the floor with his back against the wall and only moves to eat or use the toilet until they finally let him out.

His confinement costs him three chess games with N’Kami and one visit with Steve. He’s required to meet with a prison psychiatrist as well, who is nothing like the kind and caring sort of person Amy is. He’s a harried-looking man with dark eyes and a neatly trimmed black beard, dressed in an ill-fitting blue suit. He spends all of ten minutes asking Bucky a series of questions about his mental state but doesn’t seem to have much interest in the answers. 

Bucky denies being suicidal and insists that he was just angry and tired. That seems to satisfy the psychiatrist, who makes a few scribbles on his clipboard before pronouncing him fit to be released into the general population again. Bucky returns in time for his daily chess game. He plops himself down in his usual chair in the library, scowling as N’Kami chuckles at him.

“Have you learned your lesson, Mr. Barnes?” 

“Fuck off,” Bucky growls. He refuses to say much of anything else as he watches his friend set up the chess board. N’Kami lets the subject drop and goes back to needling him about losing. Steve, however, is harder to placate. 

“What happened? They told me you were in segregation,” is the first thing he says at their next visit. 

“I can’t take this place any more. I’m tired, I haven’t slept in my own bed for months, my back hurts all the time, and I’m sick of everyone telling me to just wait and be patient! Get me the fuck out of here!” Bucky explodes. 

Steve’s face crumples and he suddenly wishes he hadn’t said anything at all. “I’m trying, Buck. I promise you I’ve done everything I could possibly do. I’ve been meeting with Justin, I’ve been studying law, I’ve called in as many favours as I possibly can but it’s still not good enough. I’m at the end of my rope too!” 

Bucky can feel shame creeping up inside of him. His cheeks are heating up and he can barely look Steve in the eye. “I’m so sorry Stevie. I know all of that. I know how hard you’re working and I do appreciate it. I’m just…I’m just so tired and the trial hasn’t even started yet.”

Under the table Steve grabs his hand and squeezes it gently. “Just a little longer, I promise.” 

Bucky sucks in a shaky breath and lets it out with a whoosh. “Okay,” he whispers, “okay.”


	44. Chapter 44

Seven months. It’s been seven months of anger and pain. Seven months of being locked away, only seeing Steve on occasion, and not having any contact with any of their friends. Seven months of not sleeping, of nightmares plaguing him every night, of exhaustion that’s worn him down until he’s been left with no reserves to fight anymore. Seven months of perpetual limbo, never knowing what his future holds or if he’ll even come out of this alive. 

_This is purgatory _,__ Bucky thinks. If there is a god he’s surely punishing Bucky for his transgressions as the Winter Soldier. He’s never been very religious, even less so during the war, and not believing at all when he was captured and tortured by Hydra for seventy years, if he could remember. Being used as the “fist of Hydra” definitely fits the bill for his definition of hell and if being with Steve is his heaven then this must surely be purgatory.

Bucky lays flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the cell he’s in. It’s the same one he was put into when he punched the mirror. This time he’s in for stealing a plastic spoon from the dining hall, breaking it in half, and using it to scratch up his skin. The scratches were only superficial so the serum healed them hours ago but Bucky wishes he could get a hold of something sharper and do it again. 

There’s no way out. The trial’s been postponed once already due to some legal wrangling that Bucky couldn’t give two fucks about. He notes that the ceiling is painted the same shade of dull gray as everything else in the prison and it feels like it’s closing in on him. He shuts his eyes to block it out. Bucky wonders where Steve is now, if he’s worrying himself to death, and if he’s disappointed in Bucky for not being strong enough to resist. 

Bucky takes a deep breath but it doesn’t help calm him.What’s the point of living if he’s never going to be with Steve again? There has to be an end to this, even if it only becomes final due to Bucky’s death. He knows that nothing he can do or say will ever convince Steve to let him go and move on with his own life so that leaves dying as the only option. He can’t be in someone else’s captivity indefinitely again. Prison might not compare to what Hydra put him through but he still feels like an animal in a trap, desperate to gnaw off his own leg if that’s what it takes. 

The prison psychiatrist visits him again. Bucky sits there and scowls at him, bristling visibly when the man asks him if he wants to die. “If you had to spend all of your time here you’d think about death too,” he growls.

“But do you want to die?” the psychiatrist presses again. 

Bucky hesitates for a fraction of a second and then says, “No, I want to get out of here and go home.” 

The psychiatrist prescribes him some anti-depressant medication and makes him promise that he’ll ask for help from the guards before he tries to hurt himself again. Bucky only agrees so he’ll get released back into the general population. When given his new meds he takes them for a few days but they have no effect due to his body metabolizing them too quickly so he begins discretely flushing them down the toilet. Bucky doubts that the harried psychiatrist even read his file properly before either visit. He tries not to do anything to harm himself for the time being because he’s due another visit with Steve. 

When it happens Steve is visibly distressed. The exhaustion shows on his face as he begs Bucky to just hold on for a bit longer again. “I can’t, Stevie. I can’t promise you anything anymore because they’re never going to let me out of here.”

“Please,” Steve whispers and then tension between them becomes so thick that it could be cut with a knife. 

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see the heartbreak on his boyfriend’s face. “I swear I’m not doing this to hurt you or to be difficult. I just can’t do it anymore. I’m tired, I hurt all the time, I have nightmares, I’m homesick like you wouldn’t fucking believe, and they’re going to keep postponing the fucking trial. I don’t have anything left to hold on with.” 

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know how it feels to be helpless? I’ve done as much as I can and it’s still not enough. I don’t know what to do anymore,” Steve snaps. 

He turns away and Bucky feels panic rising in his chest. “Don’t go, Stevie. I’m so sorry; I can do better, I promise. Just don’t abandon me here, please.” He snags the sleeve of Steve’s jacket, trying desperately to pull him back. 

Steve looks back at him again and it looks like he’s near tears, just barely holding it together. “Bucky I’d never leave. You have my word. Just please don’t hurt yourself and wind up in segregation again. It just makes it worse when I can’t visit you.” 

“I don’t know if I can promise you that,” Bucky says hoarsely. 

“Then promise you’ll try.” 

Bucky swallows hard. “Okay, I’ll try. Just don’t leave me.” He doesn’t end up in segregation again, despite feeling like all he wants to do is put his hand through the nearest wall. Instead he spends most of his time trying to distract himself with reading and chess games, hoping that Justin Reid will return any day now with news of his trial.

“I told you, accept what you cannot change my friend. What is that American saying? Go with the flow?” N’Kami says when they meet up again. 

“I’d be able to if I could properly sleep. Between the nightmares and my back I’m just worn out.” 

N’Kami fixes him with a concerned look.“You should go to the infirmary my friend. They are very helpful there.” 

“They don’t have the right pain meds for me. My body burns through them so fast that they don’t have any effect and nobody can get in contact with the asshole who put this thing on me,” Bucky says, looking pointedly at the band on his arm.

N’Kami begins putting the chess board back into the box. “Perhaps you could get one of your friends to speak to this doctor.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. My lawyer says the prison is within their rights to restrain me since I’ve been branded a dangerous felon.” 

“What about removing it yourself?” N’Kami asks. “There must be some way to take that thing off.” 

Bucky just shakes his head. “I’m afraid to. Dr. Ruys said it’s keyed to him and anyone who tries to take it off is probably going to get killed. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was rigged to blow.” 

“Then you are in a very bad predicament indeed. I would still suggest that you go to the infirmary though. They may be able to figure something out,” N’Kami maintains.

In the end Bucky goes just to spite him so he can say, “I told you so,” at their next chess game. The nurse on duty listens to his complaints and then has him lie on his stomach with a heating pad on his back. It does help his sore muscles a bit so he closes his eyes, basking in the feeling of the warmth on his back and remembering how Steve puts out heat like a furnace when plastered against him in bed. After a few moments he drifts off.

When he wakes again it’s nearly four hours later. The first nurse is gone but another one has come on shift. She orders food for Bucky and has him eat it while sitting up on the bed, then does a brief physical exam before helping him put his sling back on and having him escorted back to his cell. Bucky finds he’s able to get through a few more pages of the book about chess strategy he’s been reading before he starts to feel drowsy again. Finally, when he can no longer keep his eyes open, he puts it aside and drifts off.

_It’s dark and cold. The Soldier is being marched by Hydra agents down a long corridor and they enter a room that’s painted a sickly shade of green. It’s the room where they keep the chair. They always bring him here after a mission. The Soldier is dragged towards the chair, putting up no resistance because it doesn’t matter how long or hard he fights; he will end up sitting in it anyway._

_The Hydra agents lug the Soldier across the floor, feet dragging, but when he sees the chair he immediately begins to struggle. It’s not the same chair they always put him in to erase his memory. It’s an electric chair with a high wooden back, straps on the arms and legs, and an ominous metal cap hanging down. “No, please! No, no, no! Please, no!” the Soldier begs as he struggles against the Hydra agents holding him. He should be able to toss them across the room due to the strength the serum has infused him with but moving his limbs feels like wading through quicksand. He can barely lift his head. They must have done something to him, maybe injected him with drugs, the Soldier thinks._

_“You sure you want to do this? He’s still pretty valuable,” someone says from inside of the room’s shadows. The Soldier can’t see their face but he knows it’s probably one of the many scientists Hydra employs._

_“Yes, we have no need of him now that the Captain has been eliminated,” Alexander Pierce’s voice answers._

_The Soldier can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Steve? I-I k-killed S-Steve?” No one answers his question as he’s put in the chair and they start to strap him in. Steve is dead. Pierce wouldn’t lie about such a thing, especially when he can use it to punish the Soldier so it’s most likely true. The Soldier sags in the chair and lets the nearby agents finish restraining him._

_Alexander Pierce steps out of the shadows, grinning maniacally. “You were a most valuable asset for over seven decades my friend, but you have finally outlived your usefulness. In return for your service you will be decommissioned.”_

_The Soldier struggles against the bonds holding him to the chair but it’s no use. “Please don’t do this. Please,” he sobs._

_Alexander Pierce flips the switch._ __

Bucky sits bolt upright in bed, breathing like he’s just run hundreds of miles and shaking. “Fuck,” he whispers into the darkness. He’s suddenly grateful for the heavy metal door that the guards secure at night just before lights out. Bucky swings his feet over the edge of the bed and lets them hit the cool tile floor. 

He lets out a choked sob. The pain and misery that bubbles up inside of him is almost too much to bear and he wants to scream, wants to throw something, to break something, to destroy until the entire room is nothing but shambles. But everything is bolted down and he’s not sure he could really break anything with just one arm. Instead, Bucky drops back onto his bed and curls up there, sobbing. 

At the beginning of his eighth month he refuses his usual chess game with N’Kami and curls up in one of the library chairs, staring out at nothing. His friend is not to be deterred though. He pulls up a chair across from Bucky and sits down. “What is troubling you?”

“What isn’t would probably be the easier question,” Bucky mutters. 

“You are still not adjusting well to prison life,” N’Kami states. 

Bucky leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes. “There’s no way out. They’re just going to keep me here forever and I’m never going to see the outside world again. I’m going to be stuck here and I’m going to have to be satisfied with only seeing Steve once every three weeks and I’m never going to see any of my friends again.” 

“I think you’re wrong,” N’Kami says flatly. 

“Why? The court probably thinks I’m some sort of killing machine that should be put down like a rabid dog.” Bucky hugs his knees with his good arm. 

“Because you’ll tell your story and prove that you’re human and that you are not a bad man. They’ll believe you.” N’Kami slouches down in his chair and puts his feet up on the low table between them. 

“What makes you so sure?”

N’Kami gives him a wry smile. “Because you didn’t choose to align yourself with Hydra. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“More like at the bottom of a fucking ravine in the Alps,” Bucky says darkly. 

“You are not like me. Given the chance you would have gone home to a life of peace and quiet, not taken up assassinating whoever Hydra took a dislike to. I wanted the life that I lived and I am not sorry to have lived it, even if it brought me here. There is nothing I would change, except to bring my mother back, but that will never happen. We are not the same and the court is blind if they don’t see that.” 

“They keep it dragging it out though. I don’t know if I have enough sanity left to make it to the trial,” Bucky admits. 

“You need to have hope. Once hope dies your spirit will die with it so you should find something to keep moving forward for,” N’Kami says.

“Steve,” Bucky says softly. “Steve would never be able to live with himself if I died in here. He’d…he’d find some way to twist everything around in his head to make it all his fault and then he’d start blaming himself. That and there’d be no one to stop him next time he wants to jump out of a plane without a parachute.”

N’Kami lets out a chuckle. “You are very protective of him, aren’t you?” 

“Well someone has to be because he’s got no regard for his own safety. The shit he gets into sometimes…” Bucky shakes his head but he can feel the corners of his lips turn up just a touch.

Things don’t magically become easier for him after that but there are times when the idea of going home to Steve is the only thing that keeps him living. Despite his friendship with N’Kami and their daily chess games Bucky often feels lonely. It’s worse at night. He misses Steve so much and it makes his heart ache terribly. His thoughts may be cold comfort at best but they’re all he has.

“Good news!” Justin Reid announces at their next meeting. “The trial is going ahead in two weeks.” 

“Fucking finally,” Bucky snaps. He knows that he shouldn’t be irritable with the man who’s going to get him out of this mess but it just slips out.

“You’re absolutely right. It’s about fucking time that we get you out of here,” Reid replies. When Bucky gives him a shocked look, he shrugs. “Hey, even lawyers swear sometimes. Now let’s get to work.”

“You’re going to make me go over the strategy for the trial again, aren’t you?” Bucky groans. 

“You bet. We’re going to need you to take the stand as part of the defense and I really want to make sure that you don’t fall apart under cross-examination.”

Bucky lets out a snort of derision. “Lawyers don’t scare me.” 

“Then let’s prepare you to tear the prosecution apart.” Reid has a grin on his face that looks almost gleeful, like a kid who’s just found out that he doesn’t have to go to school. 

Inside Bucky feels a sense of relief that he’s no longer waiting indefinitely. He starts counting down the days, feeling both nervousness and elation building inside of him. Finally it’s his last night before the trial and Bucky curls up on his bed to try to get some sleep. He feels extremely jittery and nothing can stop his mind from racing, sifting through all of the possibilities for trial outcomes. 

Near sunrise he finally feels so exhausted that he drifts off.


	45. Chapter 45

Bucky’s woken from a dead sleep by the guards shouting at him. “What?” he says drowsily. They all but drag him out of bed, giving him very little time to get oriented before they’re barking orders at him. He’s made to take off the sling and his left arm dangles uselessly at his side, causing more pain where it pulls on his back but he keeps quiet. After that he’s searched, forced to undress in front of the entire group, and given an orange jumpsuit to wear.

It’s humiliating and he feels his cheeks begin to burn with shame but tries to block it out. He’s been naked in front of a group before, back when Hydra used to strip him and hose him down after a mission but that doesn’t make him feel any better. He puts on the jumpsuit on without complaint and then stands stock still and waits for instructions, not wanting to make any moves that could be interpreted as violence. 

One of the guards loops a steel chain around Bucky’s waist, secures it with a padlock, and then cuffs his hands to the chain. Next, his ankles are shackled together before he’s marched out of his cell and through the prison. 

Bucky pays little attention to where they’re going. His mind is on the trial, going over everything he discussed with Justin Reid and wondering how Steve’s holding up. Reid told him that Steve’s listed as a witness so he won’t be allowed to sit in court until after he’s testified. Natasha, Tony, and Amy are also on the witness list but some of the other Avengers are going along to sit in on the court proceedings as support so Bucky doesn’t feel so alone. 

The guards herd him into the back of a plain white van and cuff him to the bench. Bucky stares out the window at the scenery whizzing past, not really taking any of it in but feeling glad that he’s outside of the prison walls for the first time in months. When they arrive at the courthouse he’s taken back to a holding cell and left there to await his escort into the courtroom. As time ticks by in agonizing increments, Bucky stares out of the cell at nothing in particular, biding his time by thinking about Steve. 

He wishes he could see Steve, give him a hug, tell him that it’s going to be all right even though Bucky himself can’t quite believe that. He fantasizes about being acquitted of all of his charges. Steve promised him that they’ll go on a vacation if that happens. Bucky tries to distract himself by thinking of all sorts of warm and sunny places they could explore, dreaming of a private beach where they can have a picnic and later go skinny dipping. He feels the corners of his mouth turn up in a tiny smile. Knowing Steve, he’ll be adorably embarrassed about it to begin with but will end up enjoying himself.

Bucky’s dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of metal on metal as one of the guards opens the door and tells him it’s time. He shuffles down the hall, shackles making a clinking sound every time he takes a step, and lets them lead him into the courtroom. He’s taken to a table at the front where Justin Reid is sitting. A quick glance at the gallery shows that Bruce, Clint, and Pepper are sitting together. Bucky sits down beside Justin and isn’t surprised to find that he feels shaky. 

Justin leans over to him and whispers, “Just relax and remember what we practiced. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Easy for you to say.” Bucky looks around the room again and sees a black woman with long braids and a robe similar to the judges’ sitting at the table across from them. He thinks she must be the prosecutor. She catches him looking and gives him a glare in return so Bucky quickly averts his eyes and doesn’t look at anything else until the members of the court begin to file in. 

There are three members at the judge’s table again. Due to explanations he’s received from Reid, Bucky knows that one in the middle is the presiding judge, a Wakandan by the name of T’Chohi Asada, while the unnamed others are there to aid in the decision of whether or not he’s guilty. As the beginning of the trial gets underway, Bucky lowers his eyes to the table and takes a few deep breaths, trying to steel himself for what’s to come. It’s hard to concentrate on what’s going on when his body is wracked with nervousness and the pain of his dangling left arm. 

He listens carefully as the laundry list of charges against him is read out and then is asked how he pleads. Bucky quickly says, “Not guilty,” and then it’s time for the opening statements. The prosecutor, a woman who identifies herself as Isatou Sidibeh is allowed to go first. She welcomes everyone present in a warm and pleasant tone, then switches into a cold, practiced speech. 

“Your honour, I am here today to prove that James Barnes not only aided Hydra in their campaign of world destruction but that he did so willingly and with knowledge of his actions. During the trial you will hear testimony from experts about what a danger he still is to the world. You will hear from people who were personally victimized by him, forever changing and damaging their lives. With this testimony I will prove that James Barnes is a dangerous felon who should not be allowed to live freely among the citizens of the world. He is an evil, thoughtless killing machine with no regard for human life and should be treated as such, not revered as a war hero. Thank-you.”

Bucky bites down hard on his bottom lip to control his anger. This woman doesn’t know him, doesn’t have a clue about anything he’s been through, and she wants him locked away and treated like an animal. Little does she know that Hydra already accomplished that once. Bucky watches as Justin gets up from his chair and begins to deliver his opening statement. He’s all confidence and charm, something Bucky couldn’t even imagine exuding at this point as he slumps miserably in his chair. The weight of his dead arm is causing a terrible ache. He wonders if he’ll be taken back to the prison at the end of the day and whether the infirmary would let him have the heating pad again. 

“You have heard the prosecutor explain what she hopes to prove but she hasn’t given you all of the facts. My client is here today to clear his name. He doesn’t dispute that he has committed crimes of a horrible nature or that he was part of Hydra during that time. What we are disputing today is that he was a willing participant. My client is a man of great honour who served his country in world war two, a man who volunteered to fight for the greater good by laying down his own life, even going so far as to stay on the front lines when he had a chance to return home. He was part of the Howling Commandos, an elite squad led by Captain America and also a close personal friend to the man himself. While enduring seventy years of heinous torture and abuse, both physical and mental, he was forced to act as a puppet for Hydra, who were so malevolent that they attempted to completely strip him of his identity. I would like you all to ask yourselves if he seems like a man who would volunteer to be part of one of the most evil organizations in the world. My client has not committed crimes of any nature since he was freed. We ask that you find this long-serving prisoner of war not guilty so that he can spend his remaining years in the comfort that he deserves. Thank-you ladies and gentlemen.” 

Justin sits down in his chair again. Bucky watches as the presiding judge nods to the prosecutor. “You may call your first witness.” 

The prosecutor stands, facing the judges, and announces, “I would like to call Dr. Albert Ruys to the stand.” Bucky has to fight every impulse in his body to keep from leaping over the table in anger as the man responsible for months of pain enters the courtroom and takes a seat in the witness box. He catches Bucky looking at him and smirks.

Something must show on his face because Reid leans over and whispers, “Stay calm. I’ll handle it.” 

Dr. Ruys makes a big show of arranging himself properly in his seat and then gives the prosecutor an oily smile as he’s sworn in.

“Please state your name and occupation for the court,” the prosecutor instructs. 

“My name is Dr. Albert Ruys and I am a cybernetics specialist.” Bucky balls the fingers on his flesh hand into a fist and digs it into his thigh. He desperately wants to punch the man square in his smug little face.

“And you are considered an expert in your field of cybernetics?”

“That I am. I graduated top of my class from the Delft University of Technology. My thesis was on the use of physics based models for robotic soft material manipulation as a means of helping veterans who have sustained loss of limb. I have also been published many times in the International Journal of Cybernetics & Informatics, won a Ludwick Fleck prize for my work, and co-authored a textbook. I have given more than a dozen lectures on the subject as well,” Ruys boasts. 

Bucky presses his nails into his palm. He desperately wants to strangle the man, preferably with his metal hand once he’s able to get it working again. 

“Can you describe the moment when you met Mr. Barnes?” the prosecutor asks.

Ruys gives her another one of his pompous smiles before launching into the description. “I was called to the courthouse after Mr. Barnes’ hearing. The prison would not accept him unless the cybernetic components of his body were deactivated. He was in the holding cell when I arrived. I placed the deactivation band on his arm and then he was transported to the prison.”

“Can you describe how the band works?” 

“It merely interrupts the signal from Mr. Barnes’ cybernetic arm to his brain. He’s unable to use it as long he wears the band.” 

“Does this cause the defendant any pain?” 

Ruys’ eyes flick in Bucky’s direction, giving him a cold look, as he replies, “No, it doesn’t. The interruption of the signal may have caused a small bit of discomfort but now that the arm no longer functions he’s perfectly fine.” 

Bucky grits his teeth and begins imaging more than just punching or strangling Ruys. This time he pictures stabbing the man multiple times before tossing him off an overpass into the traffic below. It’s a small comfort but a good one. The prosecutor’s next question makes him start fantasizing about disemboweling Ruys. “In your professional opinion, is Mr. Barnes’ arm a dangerous weapon?” 

“Yes, it is. The arm is strong, durable, and lacks the ability to feel pain. It could easily aid Mr. Barnes in escaping from prison or murdering anyone he chooses.” 

“If the defendant were to be re-introduced into society, would you say his arm poses a risk?”

“It does.” 

“Is there a way to neutralize that risk?”

Ruys settles back in his chair and replies, “In my professional opinion, the only way is to either permanently deactivate the arm or remove it.” 

The prosecutor turns to the judge and says, “No further questions, your Honour.” Bucky watches her settle back into her seat at the opposite table as Justin rises next to him and saunters up to the witness box. Bucky chews on his lower lip to keep himself from smiling. At last that prick is going to get his comeuppance. 

“Dr. Ruys, can you confirm that you examined Mr. Barnes while he was in the holding cell?” 

“Yes, I did,” Ruys says confidently. 

“How long did you spend looking at Mr. Barnes’ arm?” 

“I can’t tell you the exact time but it wasn’t very long. I’m well-versed enough in cybernetics to know what I’m looking at on first glance,” Ruys boasts. 

Justin frowns at him. “And you were able to tell from just seeing Mr. Barnes’ hand what you were dealing with?”

“What do you mean?” Ruys says. Bucky chews harder on his lower lip. This is going to be good. 

“I’ll rephrase that for you. Did you ask Mr. Barnes to undress so you could examine his arm?” 

“No, I did not,” Ruys says. “I’m a busy man. I had a press conference to attend.” 

“So the three minutes and twenty-eight seconds you spent with Mr. Barnes were enough for you to discern that his arm was a threat to the entire world?” 

“Objection! The defense is leading the witness!” the prosecutor snarls from her seat. 

“Sustained,” Judge Asada says. 

Justin doesn’t seem fazed. Instead he moves on.“Was Mr. Barnes co-operative during your visit?”

“He was,” Ruys answers.

“Did you feel threatened by his presence?” 

“Not at all. He was in a cell in handcuffs and he was being compliant.” 

Justin changes tack now and begins on a different line of questioning. “You said the deactivation bracelet only causes mild discomfort, right?”

“That’s right,” Ruys says stiffly.

“Then why did Mr. Barnes scream and fall to the floor after you put the bracelet on his wrist?” 

“He was being dramatic and trying to gain sympathy from the guards!”

“Did you know that Mr. Barnes was unable to stand after receiving an electric shock from the bracelet?” 

“I wasn’t made aware of that but I’m sure it was all a fabrication on his part,” Ruys snaps. Bucky’s biting his lower lip hard to stop the grin that wants to spread across his face. 

“Did you know that Mr. Barnes suffered from back pain while in prison?” Justin asks.

“No. Why would that matter?” 

“Were you aware that the prison staff had tried to call you regarding the pain Mr. Barnes was in?” 

“No. I have an assistant who handles all of my messages. I’m a busy man and I don’t have time to answer every call that comes in.” Ruys looks positively angry now. His face has gone red and a vein is bulging in his forehead. On the outside Bucky appears calm and stoic but his inner self is feeling positively gleeful. 

“So you did not receive any of the seven messages left for you by prison infirmary?” Justin questions.

“No, and I’ll be speaking to my assistant about which calls are important enough to be put through to me,” Ruys snarls. 

“Dr. Ruys, did you or did you not receive an email from the prison infirmary asking for a consultation on Mr. Barnes’ medical condition?”

“I…I don’t think so.” 

“Does your assistant check your emails?”

“No, I always check them myself.”

Justin saunters back to the defense table and pulls a piece of paper from a file. He hands it to Ruys and announces, “Your honour, I’d like to present for the court exhibit A. This is the email that was sent. Do you recall seeing it?” 

“No, but I get a lot of emails on a daily basis. I can’t always respond to them.” Ruys is looking a bit nervous now.

“Can you please read the response in the email chain?” Justin asks. He’s got a glint in his eyes that looks almost predatory and Bucky knows that this is going to be a small victory for their side.

Ruys lets out a defiant snort before he brings the paper up to eye level and begins reading out loud. “Due to my current schedule I am not currently available for consultation. Please consult a physician for any medical issues regarding James Barnes. Thanks, Dr. A. Ruys.” 

“Can you recall writing that message?” 

“No, I can’t. I didn’t write that!” Beads of sweat are beginning to slide down Ruys’ forehead and Bucky can hardly contain his excitement at how the situation is playing out. 

“So you’re insinuating that someone else wrote it?” Justin asks. 

“My assistant probably did.” 

Justin raises an eyebrow at him. “Earlier you told us that your assistant doesn’t check your email. Which is true?” 

“She checks on it rare occasions. This must have been one of them,” Ruys insists.

“Does your assistant always sign your name on your behalf?” Justin asks. 

Ruys twists his hands together nervously and can’t seem to look Justin in the eye. “No, she does not.” 

“So you have only seen James Barnes in person once before?” 

“Correct.” 

“During that one observation you felt that Mr. Barnes was enough of a danger to the world that his arm had to be neutralized?” 

“I’m an expert in my field! I’m perfectly capable of making an educated guess!” Ruys growls. 

Justin gives him a tight smile and then continues with, “Is it true that the bracelet is biometrically keyed to you?” 

“It’s true.” Ruys relaxes a fraction at being asked another technical question but Bucky can see that Justin is readying himself to pounce on whatever Ruys says, like a lion in wait of its prey. 

“What would happen if someone other than you tried to remove the bracelet?” 

“It delivers a severe electric shock to both the wearer and the person tampering with it.” 

“Can you define severe for the court, please?” 

Ruys is back to looking nervous again and a large bead of sweat makes its way down his face to settle on his nose. He wipes it away irritably. “One hundred and twenty volts.” 

“Is that enough to kill a human being?”

“It…it is,” Ruys admits and he begins twisting his hands together again. 

“Dr. Ruys do you feel that your expertise in cybernetics is enough to make you judge, jury, and executioner of one man?” 

The prosecutor, who has been largely quiet until now, jumps from her chair, barking out, “Objection!” 

“Sustained,” Judge Asada orders. 

Justin nods at the judge and says, “I withdraw my question, your honour. No further questions.” He saunters back to the table and sinks into his chair next to Bucky, who can’t help but let a tiny smile sneak through when looking in Justin’s direction.

Bucky makes sure to stare directly at Ruys as he’s excused by the judge and disappears from the witness stand, mopping his sweaty brow with a handkerchief. He catches Bucky’s gaze for a second and his expression is livid. Bucky simply gives him a cold look before dropping his eyes back to the table. 

Justin leans over and whispers to him, “If they’re all this easy it’s going to be a walk in the park.” 

Bucky just hopes that’s true.


	46. Chapter 46

The prosecutor has an angry glint in her eye after Dr. Ruys has left the courtroom and Bucky thinks that maybe she was blindsided by her witness’ incompetence and is reeling a little at the loss. He can see her visibly center and compose herself before calling the next witness to the stand. It’s the prison psychiatrist, the one who saw Bucky twice for all of ten minutes each time, and had clearly never even read his file. He hopes that Justin eats the guy for breakfast. 

“Please state your name and qualifications for the court,” the prosecutor instructs. 

“Dr. Gary van Hedel. I have a PhD in Psychiatry.” 

“How long have you been practicing Dr. van Hedel?" 

“Next month it’ll be twenty-one years.” 

“And how long have you worked at the prison?” 

“Thirteen years,” Dr. Van Hedel replies. He looks exactly the same as he did when he visited Bucky in prison with his neat little beard, keen dark eyes, and an ill-fitting charcoal coloured suit that seems appropriate for the perpetual expression of weariness the man displays. 

The prosecutor circles closer to the witness stand, keeping her body language loose and at ease. She clearly thinks this man is going to be a better witness than Ruys was and her confidence reminds Bucky of a preening bird. “How did you come to treat Mr. Barnes?” 

“He was referred to me by staff after he displayed an act of aggression which was uncharacteristic for his behaviour at the time. They thought there might be a psychiatric component to it.” 

Bucky chews on his lower lip to stifle a groan as he realizes just where the line of questioning is going. They’re going to make him out to be unstable and dangerous, someone who should be locked away for his own good to keep the unsuspecting public safe. He decides not to worry just yet though since Justin doesn’t look alarmed. 

“Can you please describe your first meeting with Mr. Barnes for the court?” 

“It is my understanding that Mr. Barnes became aggressive and punched a mirror in the bathroom, shattering it.” 

“Objection! Hearsay!” Justin calls from his seat at the table. 

“Overruled. This is pertinent information Mr. Reid,” Judge Asada says. He motions for Dr. van Hedel to continue.

The psychiatrist quickly jumps in where he left off with, “The guards took him to a segregated cell and kept him there until I evaluated him.” 

“When you questioned Mr. Barnes about his actions, what did he tell you?” 

“He said that he was simply having a difficult time adjusting to prison life and had experienced a sudden burst of anger at his situation, which led to him shattering the mirror.” 

“Did you feel confident in releasing him back into the general population?” the prosecutor presses. 

Dr. van Hedel nods. “At the time I had no reason to disbelieve what Mr. Barnes reported. When questioned, he denied being suicidal. As he had completed the required seventy-two hour hold without incident I released him to the general population.” 

“Can you describe your second visit with Mr. Barnes?” the prosecutor asks. She’s moved back a bit from the witness stand and drifted closer to the her table but still keeps her eyes trained directly on the psychiatrist, ignoring the rest of the court. 

“He was again put on a seventy-two hour hold after self-harming.” Bucky chews on his lower lip nervously. This isn’t going to make him look good at all.

“What was the method of self-harm?”

“He stole a plastic fork from the dining hall and used it to repeatedly scratch his skin.” 

“And you were asked to visit him in segregation again?” 

“That’s correct.”

“What was your impression of Mr. Barnes on that visit?"

Dr. van Hedel clears his throat and explains, “He once again denied being suicidal but I diagnosed him with depression due to poor coping skills, which is very common in prisoners.” 

“What happened after Mr. Barnes completed the seventy-two hour hold?” 

“I required him to verbally agree that he would be released into the general population as long as there were no more incidents of self-harm. I also prescribed Paxil to alleviate his mood swings.”

“To your knowledge was Mr. Barnes compliant with his medication?”

“It was reported to me by the guards that he was compliant for the first few days but then he was observed flushing his medication down the toilet,” the psychiatrist answers. 

The prosecutor looks extremely pleased with this information and she begins to hammer on it relentlessly, as if to prove to the court that Bucky isn’t to be trusted. “Did Mr. Barnes continue to have depressive symptoms?” 

“Several reports from the guards indicated that he did. He became irritable, withdrawn, and seemed to lose interest in his daily chess games with another inmate. He also expressed through sarcasm that he had thought about death but then denied being suicidal upon our second meeting.” 

“And what are the ramifications of a prisoner who is non-compliant with his medication?”

“Without good medication adherence prisoners don’t develop the self-care skills they need, causing a risk of them being mentally unstable at their time of release. This leads to an increased risk of ending up behind bars again, as well as excessive hospitalizations and an extensive use of both correctional and mental health resources to keep them from harming themselves or others.” 

Bucky doesn’t like where this is heading at all. He nudges Justin with his elbow, leans over, and whispers, “This is bad.” 

Justin doesn’t look very worried though. “It is but I can turn it around.” 

Back at the witness stand the prosecutor is asking if low medication adherence can cause violence. “It can,” Dr. van Hedel replies.

“Do you think Mr. Barnes has the potential to be violent?” 

Dr. van Hedel’s tone is grim when he answers with, “I do. Mr. Barnes has demonstrated that he is prone to fits of aggression and self-destructive behaviour. I’ve seen many inmates who display these symptoms before and if they refuse to commit to treatment their behaviour generally escalates until they need to be restrained to prevent them from causing harm to both themselves and others.” 

The prosecutor goes in for the kill now. “Would you recommend that Mr. Barnes be released back into society?”

“Based on my observations, no,” Dr. van Hedel answers.

“No further questions your honour.” The prosecutor heads back to her table and folds herself daintily into her chair, smoothing down her skirt and arranging herself in a way that again reminds Bucky of a puffed up bird. 

Justin is now up near the witness stand and has begun his line of questioning. “How many patients do you have on your caseload, Dr. van Hedel?” 

“One hundred and fifty-two,” the psychiatrist answers. 

“Do you feel this gives you ample time to spend with patients?”

Dr. van Hedel is suddenly looking a little nervous and he twists a bit in his seat, as though trying to angle his body away from Justin when he answers, “I see prisoners for as long as I’m able to. I do admit that I have a high workload but the prison is currently understaffed. It’s a temporary measure until hiring has taken place.” 

“Do you think you spent enough time with Mr. Barnes?” 

“I wasn’t able to spend as much time as I’d like but I was there long enough to diagnose him and order a treatment regimen.”

“Do you review each patient’s file before visiting them in person?” Justin asks. 

“I skim over the basics to make sure I have some background information on them,” Dr. van Hedel says. There’s a defiant edge creeping into his voice and Bucky can’t wait to see how this plays out. 

“Were you aware that Mr. Barnes is what’s considered a ‘super soldier’?” Justin asks. 

“No, I don’t know what that means.” 

“Are you familiar with Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America?” 

“Objection! Relevance!” the prosecutor barks from her table. 

“Overruled but get to the point, Mr. Reid,” Judge Asada says.

“Answer the question, please.” Justin looks smug. 

Dr. van Hedel is looking distinctly annoyed. “Yes, I’m familiar with his history but I don’t know what that has do to with my patient.” 

“Were you aware that Mr. Barnes received the same experimental serum as Captain Rogers?”

“I…I don’t think so,” the psychiatrist says and his voice upticks on the end of the phrase with nervous energy. 

“Were you aware of the media attention Mr. Barnes and Captain Rogers received several months ago?” 

“Objection! Relevance!” the prosecutor snaps. 

“Is this pertinent to your line of questioning?” Judge Asada asks. 

“It is, your honour.” 

“Overruled. Answer the question Dr. van Hedel.” 

“I was aware of it, yes. I saw several of their interviews,” the psychiatrist snaps. 

Justin looks back at Bucky and shoots him the barest hint of a smile, just a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, before he fires off his next round of questions. “Did you see any of the interviews where Mr. Barnes discussed the experiments he was subjected to while in captivity?” 

“I did,” Dr. Van Hedel answers. 

“So you were aware that Mr. Barnes’ body functions much like that of Captain Rogers’?”

“I..” Dr. van Hedel hesitates. “I suppose I was.” 

“Have you ever treated a super soldier before?” Justin asks. 

“No, I’ve never even met one before Mr. Barnes.” 

“Did you do any research on super soldiers and the way that their body metabolizes medications?” Bucky lowers his head and chews hard on his lower lip as he tries to hide the smirk that’s threatening to spread across his face. The psychiatrist is in for it now. 

“No, I didn’t,” Dr. van Hedel admits.

“So how did you calculate the dose of medication that was given to Mr. Barnes?”

Dr. van Hedel is starting to look like he’d rather be anywhere than where he’s sitting right now. “I prescribed a dose that would be appropriate for an adult male of his size.” 

“Did you make any effort to contact anyone who might be familiar with super soldier physiology?” 

Dr. van Hedel scowls at Justin and finally loses the professional facade he’s attempted to put on for the questioning so far. “Who the hell would I contact? I don’t have any colleagues who could be of any use and I sure as hell don’t know any high ranking people! I’m a prison psychiatrist for crying out loud!” 

“Did you ask Mr. Barnes any questions in relation to the way his body functions when given medications?” 

“No, I didn’t. I’m extremely busy, I have tons of patients to see, and I don’t have time to question every single one of them about their life history,” the psychiatrist seethes. 

“So you admit to giving to Mr Barnes a dose of medication that was inadequate for his metabolism?” 

“Yes…I mean no. I mean I was working with what I had at the time!” 

“Would you say that you’re qualified to make a judgement on whether or not Mr. Barnes is a danger to society?”

“Yes, I’m qualified based on the fact that I’ve spent many years training and practicing psychiatry. Patients who are homicidal or suicidal need to be isolated until they’re no longer dangerous,” Dr. van Hedel says sharply. 

“Did Mr. Barnes express any homicidal thoughts to you during your visits?” 

“No, he did not.” The psychiatrist is nervously jiggling one of his knees up and down now and the rustling of the cheap fabric of his suit seems loud in the nearly silent courtroom. 

“Were you aware that Mr. Barnes has been in physical pain since the beginning of his incarceration?” Justin asks. 

“No, he never said anything about it.” Dr. van Hedel is shaking his head emphatically now and, along with the continued bouncing of his knee, manages to look extremely ridiculous.

“Were you aware that Mr. Barnes’ prosthetic arm was deactivated shortly before he was remanded into custody?” 

“No, I wasn’t.” 

“Did you observe Mr. Barnes wearing his arm in a sling?” 

“I did but I assumed it was something the infirmary was taking care of.” 

“Do you receive reports from the infirmary detailing the physical and mental status of prisoners?” 

“I do but I have such a high workload that I don’t have time to read them all. I have a serious backlog of paperwork at the moment,” Dr. van Hedel snaps. 

“Does physical health have an impact on mental health?” Justin questions. __This is it__ , Bucky thinks. Justin is going to eviscerate the man and leave the prosecutor 0 for 2 in her attempt to demonstrate to everyone present that Bucky is an evil psychotic killer who should never see the light of day again. 

“It can,” Dr. van Hedel says carefully.

“Could Mr. Barnes’ physical health have caused the symptoms of anger and depression you observed?”  
  
”Mental health is a complex issue but yes, physical symptoms could be part of the cause.”

“Were you aware that the prison infirmary has been unable to treat Mr. Barnes’ pain effectively due to how quickly his body metabolizes drugs?” 

“No, I was not.” 

“Did you ask the prison for contact information for Mr. Barnes’ next of kin?” 

“I had no reason to.” 

Justin presses onward with, “So you didn’t contact anyone who could possibly have given you a rundown on super soldier metabolisms?” 

“No, I did not.” 

“Were you aware that Captain Rogers is listed as Mr. Barnes’ next of kin?” 

“No.” 

“So you didn’t contact Captain Rogers regarding Mr. Barnes’ physicality?”

“No.”

“Do you think your failure to research Mr. Barnes’ physical condition could be qualified as negligence?”

“No! If anyone’s negligent it’s the prison for forcing one psychiatrist to handle a caseload of one hundred and fifty two patients! I don’t have the time or the resources to deal with inmates who have special needs!” Dr. van Hedel explodes. 

“Have you brought this up to your superiors?” Justin asks as casually as if they’re old friends in a bar having a chat.

Dr. van Hedel looks livid now. His face is tomato red and there’s a vein sticking out in the middle of his furrowed brow, bracketing eyes that are glaring at Justin with what could only be described as murderous rage. If looks could kill Justin would be a smoking heap of ash on the floor. “I’ve mentioned it multiple times and I’ve been repeatedly told that there is no budget to hire either another psychiatrist until the next fiscal year starts! Expecting me to deal with a special needs inmate is expecting miracles!” 

“No further questions your honour,” Justin says before sauntering back to his chair beside Bucky. Dr. van Hedel is dismissed and darts out of the courtroom, leaving behind silence and a very angry looking prosecutor.

“Nice work,” Bucky whispers to Justin, who just gives him a self-satisfied smile in return.

Court is adjourned for the day and Bucky is taken back to the prison but this time he doesn’t mind the bumpy ride in the prison van or the entire process of uncuffing and redressing in normal prison clothes. If the rest of the trial plays out like today did they should be assured a victory. Bucky’s too much of a worrier to be completely confident though. He just hopes that this is a glimpse of the a light at the end of a very long tunnel.


	47. Chapter 47

It’s day two of the trial and Bucky is woken in a similar manner as before. He submits quickly to being searched, dressed, cuffed, and taken out to the prison van. Once back in the courtroom he waits patiently until court is called into session and the prosecutor is allowed to call yet another witness. She brings in a tiny woman, about five foot two with bright blue eyes, a button nose, and perfectly shaped cupid’s bow lips, wearing a black pencil skirt with a white blouse. Bucky thinks she could be a model. 

“Please state your name for the court,” the prosecutor orders. 

“My name is Anna Sokolov,” the woman replies in a heavy Russian accent. 

“Can you please tell everyone why you are here testifying today?” 

“I am the widow of Aleksei Sokolov. He was a victim of the Winter Soldier and I was present at his murder.” 

The prosecutor gives her a sympathetic look. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Sokolov. Can you describe the location of your husband’s murder?” 

“We were at a charity gala in Saint Petersburg for disabled children. All of the ministers and their families were invited.”

“And your husband was a cabinet minister, correct?”

“Yes, he was the Deputy Prime Minister for Defense and Space Industry.” 

The prosecutor makes a concerned face. “What happened the night of the murder?” 

Anna takes a deep breath and lets it out shakily, clearly steeling herself for what she’s about to describe. “We were looking forward to the first night out we’d had since I gave birth to our daughter so we got dressed up and went to the gala. We made it in time for the beginning of the cocktail hour. We were having fun drinking, talking to our friends, and then…” she trails off, swallowing hard. “And then…then the window shattered…my husband collapsed and people were screaming. It was so loud.”

Bucky feels his breath catch in his throat. He killed that man and he can remember it like it was yesterday, lying on the roof of a building in wait with a rifle, peering through the scope until he could find the perfect shot. It had been straight to the head. Aleksei Sokolov had been alive one moment, enjoying a night out with his wife, and the next his brains had spattered across her navy blue ballgown. Bucky had left then. He’d reported that the job was done and been taken back to Hydra’s headquarters by his handlers to await maintenance and cryo.

The prosecutor hands Anna a tissue. She daintily pats at her eyes with it and then continues, “I didn’t realize it but I was on the floor next to my husband, holding his head. He was dead but I didn’t want to believe it. I kept screaming for help until some friends pulled me away. I don’t remember much of what happened after that. They tell me that I was taken to the hospital and treated for shock but I can only recall bits and pieces of it. It was like everything just became a blur.” 

“Did you know why your husband was targeted?” the prosecutor asks. 

Anna shakes her head. “Some of his colleagues told me that he was involved in an arms deal that was apparently very important but they wouldn’t tell me any more.” 

Bucky swallows hard at that. Hydra had wanted Alexei Sokolov killed because he had brokered a multi-million dollar deal between Russia and India that would have seen Russia trading aircraft carriers for nuclear submarines capable of firing ballistic missiles. Hydra hadn’t wanted India to have the aircraft carriers but they had never explained why. Bucky was simply to kill the Sokolov because his death would mean the end of the deal.

He tries not to show any emotion but can’t suppress a shudder at the thought of what he’s done to this woman and her daughter, tearing their lives asunder with an action that took less than a second. The prosecutor hands more tissues to Anna, who has tears streaming down her face. 

“Anna, I know this is very difficult for you but did you see anyone that night?” 

“No, I didn’t see anyone because I was only concerned with my husband, but I remember hearing someone in the crowd yell, ‘It’s the soldier!’ and suddenly everyone was much more terrified.” 

“Did you receive any details from the police investigation that suggested who had killed your husband?”

“No, the police were unable to tell me anything. The FIS got involved and I was interviewed by them several times but when I asked who the soldier could possibly be they told me it didn’t concern me.” 

“And how did you know for sure it was the Winter Solider who murdered your husband?” the prosecutor asks. 

“I couldn’t let it rest. I had to know who had killed Aleksei so I began investigating. It took me two years but eventually I found someone who was willing to talk about this mysterious soldier and he told me that the man was a ‘ghost story’.”

“Who did you speak to?” 

Anna takes another deep breath and then lets it out slowly before replying, “Dorofei Denisov.” 

Bucky bites back a gasp because he knows that name. Denisov was part of the maintenance crew; a shrewd calculating little man with a penchant for horn rimmed glasses and a real mean streak, he’d been responsible for the upkeep of Bucky’s arm. He’d been suddenly replaced one day. Bucky would bet money on the man deciding to jump ship but anyone who chose to leave was never permitted to live for very long. 

“What did Mr. Denisov tell you?” 

“He said that it was dangerous for me to keep investigating. He told me about a man named the Winter Soldier and said that both the soldier and the organization he worked with were terrorists. He told me that if I wanted to stay alive for my daughter’s sake that I’d better keep quiet. I never saw him again after that.” 

Denisov is definitely dead then. “Did you continue to search for answers aftewards?” the prosecutor asks. 

Anna looks defeated. “I hit a dead end. There was no one else willing to help and my daughter needed me so I stopped looking.”

“No further questions,” the prosecutor announces and then struts back to her seat, looking more than a little smug. Bucky has no doubt that she’s counting on Anna’s testimony to tug on the heart strings of the judges and help turn the tide in her favour.

Justin rises from his seat and approaches the witness stand cautiously. “Mrs. Sokolov, do you know the person who mentioned the Winter Soldier when your husband was shot?” 

“No,” Anna says. 

“Would you be able to pick them out of a line-up?” 

Anna dabs at her eyes again. “No, I don’t know who it was. I only heard them.” 

“And you’re sure the words ‘Winter Soldier’ were mentioned?” 

“No, they said, ‘It’s the Soldier’.” 

“How are you so sure they were referring to the Winter Soldier?” 

“I wasn’t at the time but I found out when I spoke to Mr. Denisov.” 

“And how did you meet Mr. Denisov?” 

Anna lowers her eyes to her lap, twisting the tissue given to her by the prosecutor around and around in a spiral until it tears. “He contacted me.” 

“By what means?” 

“He called me and asked to meet with me. I was directed to go to a park near my house and wait on a specific bench until he showed up.” 

“Did he bring any proof of who he was?” Justin asks. 

“No.”

“So you didn’t ask for any form of identification?” 

“I didn’t but I believed him when he started telling me about the Winter Soldier.” 

“What exactly did Mr. Denisov tell you about the Winter Soldier?” 

“He said that the man was dangerous. I believe his exact words were ‘born to kill’ when describing him. He told me that my husband was not the first politician to be murdered by that man and that he certainly wouldn’t be the last because the terrorist organization the soldier belonged to was meddling in foreign affairs.”

“Did he name the organization?” 

“No, he said he couldn’t tell me. It was supposedly for my own safety.”

“Did he give you the real name of the Winter Soldier?” 

“No,” Anna says softly, lowering her eyes to her lap and twisting the ripped tissues again.

“What else did Denisov tell you?" 

Anna twists the tissues around the index finger of her right hand and keeps her eyes averted from Justin’s gaze. “He said that he used to work for the same terrorist organization as the Winter Soldier. He said that he’d seen the man up close and personal, that he was terrifying and evil to the core. You didn’t see the look on his face when he was describing all of that to me. He was so afraid. He said they weren’t going to let him live but he was going to run as far as possible before the terrorists caught up to him just to make it difficult for them.” 

“Did he tell you why he left?” 

“No.” 

“Mrs. Sokolov, if I asked you to point out the Winter Soldier in this courtroom today, could you do it?” 

“No, I never saw him. I only know what I was told.” Anna drops the pieces of shredded tissues onto her skirt. Some of them cling there where others float to the floor like snowflakes. 

“You were treated for shock the night of your husband’s murder, correct?” 

“I was,” Anna says in a near-whisper. 

“So you can recall the events prior to his death but not after?”

“I can recall everything that happened before he was shot and a little of what happened after.”

“Would you say that your memory of that evening is compromised?”

“Objection!” the prosecutor, who has been quiet until now, snaps.

“On what grounds?” Judge Asada asks. 

“Council is the leading the witness again,” she replies. 

“Sustained,” the judge barks.

Justin rephrases the question. “What do you remember of the events after your friends led you away?” 

Anna starts picking nervously at the bits of ripped tissue on her skirt and she looks up at him with eyes that have gone watery once more. “They took me far away enough that I couldn’t see my husband and I only remember bits and pieces from there. The paramedics showed up, they pronounced him dead, and one of my friends asked them to treat me. The next thing I knew I was in the hospital lying on a bed. I was told they had sedated me.” 

“Mrs. Sokolov, is it true that your mental state led to your daughter being removed from your home?” 

“Objection! That’s irrelevant!” the prosecutor shouts, jumping up from her chair. 

“Does this have a point counsellor?” Judge Asada asks. 

“I assure you I do, your honour.” 

“Overruled. Answer the question Mrs. Sokolov.”

“I was grieving. I could hardly get out of bed for the first year and I was definitely in no shape to be raising a child but I didn’t have anyone to help me. Eventually children’s services came and they offered me some help. She was placed in foster care while I attended grief counselling and tried to get back on my feet.”

“And when did you begin investigating your husband’s death?” 

“A few months after.” 

“Did your investigation take you away from home very often?”

“It did sometimes because I had to travel to follow up leads.” 

“Do you feel that you are obsessed with finding the murderer?” 

Anna looks outraged now. Her face is a blotchy red and her fists are clenched in her skirt, balling up the black fabric and twisting it. “I’m not obsessed! I just needed to know! Wait until someone you love dies and no one will tell you anything!” 

Justin remains completely unmoved by her outburst. He moves on with questioning. “Is that why your daughter is still in foster care?” 

Bucky can see a vein sticking out in Anna’s neck now. She might have been strikingly beautiful upon entering the courtroom but with the angry glint in her eyes she looks downright feral. “She’s there because it’s what’s best for her and it would be selfish of me to take her back now when I know I can’t cope.” 

“Earlier you said you ended your search due to lack of information. If you were to receive new information would you start investigating again?” Justin pressures her. 

“I…I would.” Anna admits. 

“Even if it meant leaving your daughter?” 

“Yes,” Anna says in a near whisper and it seems like all the fight has drained out of her. 

“No further questions your honour,” Justin says. He doesn’t look as triumphant as he did after cross-examining Dr. Van Hedel when he returns to his seat. 

Bucky doesn’t feel like this is a victory for their side. It feels like kicking this poor woman when she’s already down and he wishes he could have no part in that, having already taken so much from her.


	48. Chapter 48

Bucky wishes desperately that he could leave the courtroom. He’s exhausted, both physically and emotionally from lack of sleep, pain, and Anna Sokolov’s testimony, making him feel so weary that he just wants to collapse right on the spot. Instead he watches as the prosecutor calls in her next witness. 

This one is a wiry man with olive skin, thinning black hair, and green eyes, wearing a wrinkled white shirt with a pair of black dress pants that are a few inches too short. He tells the court that he lost his sister, a high-ranking American diplomat who was found murdered in her car. Bucky remembers her well. Hydra had wanted her death to look like robbery was the motive so he’d hid in the backseat and slit her throat from behind before leaving with all of the valuables from her purse. 

Like Anna Sokolov before him, the man had thought something didn’t add up with his sister’s death and had gone searching for answers. He’d found nothing other than vague rumours about a murdering ghost who worked for a terrorist organization but that was enough for him to believe that the police were looking in the wrong places for the murderer. 

They just keep coming after that. There are three survivors of a bomb in Tokyo who tell their stories with the help of a translator about nearly being killed by shrapnel in an explosion that targeted a member of the Yakuza. Bucky feels sick to his stomach. Hydra never cared about collateral damage, even if they had to kill large swaths of civilians to carry out an assassination. 

A woman who reminds him of Natasha except for her waist-length brown hair testifies next. Her husband was a candidate for Prime Minister in Australia before Bucky shot him as he’d been puttering about in his backyard garden, blissfully unaware that danger lurked nearby. Bucky can barely breathe, can’t think or react as a heavy numbness settles over him. The parade of witnesses begins to blur together.

A man from Yemen talks about the death of his parents. Two women from Canada tell the court that their older brother died in a bombing while travelling for work; an elderly man with a thick French accent describes the death of his wife and son; a woman from Lebanon testifies that her husband was murdered in his own bed; a frail elderly man and his wife speak about the death of their only son with tears in their eyes. It seems that Hydra’s reach knew no bounds. They killed anyone who might stand in their way and Bucky was the weapon they used to do it. 

Justin cross-examines them all but even he’s starting to get tired. None of them can point Bucky out in the courtroom as the killer but they’ve all heard rumours, secrets passed around and speculated about, telling of a man who brought nothing but death with him whenever he appeared and had no mercy for anyone. They’ve all been damaged by Bucky’s hand in some way. 

It’s a relief to be taken back to the prison that evening but it’s a small comfort since Bucky only manages two hours of sleep. The nightmares won’t allow him to rest and at one point he finds himself on the floor, sobbing and retching. He lies there with his cheek resting against the cold concrete, thinking about Steve. He wonders where Steve is now, if he’s back in his tiny apartment trying to sleep or if he’s up, unable to do anything but think about the trial. At sunrise the guards enter Bucky’s cell and find him still in the same position on the floor with a puddle of bile next to his face. 

Once they’ve ascertained that he’s not currently ill or injured they order him up and get him ready to be taken back to the courthouse. He’s shaking when he deposits himself into his usual seat and Justin gives him a very worried look. “Today should be less traumatizing for everyone. The prosecution’s done with their witnesses so I’m going to be calling ours.” 

“Thank god,” Bucky breathes. He doesn’t think he can take any more of listening to people who’ve been shattered by his transgressions. 

Court gets underway and it’s time for Justin to call their first witness. They’ve decided that Amy will go first to give expert testimony, followed by Natasha, Tony, and then Steve. They’re saving him for last since Justin feels he’ll have the most impact on the judges. Amy smiles warmly at Bucky as she takes her seat in the witness box, looking every bit the professional in her smart looking black suit with a purple blouse that matches her hair. 

“Please state your name and credentials for the court,” Justin says. 

“My name is Amy Sullivan. I have a doctorate in psychology from Yale and have been in private practice for eleven years. I was one of the clinical psychologists on staff for SHIELD for three years.”

“You have been treating Mr. Barnes, correct?” 

“Yes.”

“How often did you see him before he entered prison?” 

“Once a week over the course a year.”

“Can you tell us what Mr. Barnes’ diagnosis is?” 

“Complex PTSD,” Amy replies. 

Justin nods at her. “And what are the symptoms of that particular disorder?” 

“Not everyone experiences the same symptoms but many patients will deal with nightmares or flashbacks that cause them to relive the traumatic experience they went through. They may also have hyper-arousal, which is constantly being jittery, nervous, and always alert for an impending disaster. This generally effects concentration and sleep. Patients may also avoid situations that remind them of traumatic events, feel detached from their emotions, and have trouble forming personal relationships. Guilt and shame from the situation may also hamper things.”

“In your professional opinion, does Mr. Barnes have any of these symptoms?”

Amy nods. “He does. His main problems are nightmares and feeling guilty about his actions during the time he was in captivity.”

“Has Mr. Barnes seemed receptive to treatment?” 

“Yes, he’s attended all of his appointments faithfully and has been willing to discuss the trauma he was subjected to.” 

“Has he shown progress?” Justin asks.

“Yes,” Amy answers. “It’s been slow but steady, which is what I’d expect for someone with complex PTSD.”

“How long do you think it will be before Mr. Barnes is able to lead a completely normal life?” 

Amy chances a look at Bucky just before she says, “Normal is subjective but I estimate that it will take several years of therapy in order for Mr. Barnes to process the trauma he experienced. He was exposed to some very harrowing things that were done to both himself and others when he was in captivity with Hydra.”

“Does Mr. Barnes take any personal responsibility for the murders he committed?”

“He does but I believe it’s unwarranted.” 

“And why is that?” Justin asks.

“Mr. Barnes is a victim of torture. He was abused both physically and psychologically over a period of seventy years and he’s experiencing survivor’s guilt. He thinks that if he had fought harder to resist Hydra’s programming that he could have prevented the deaths of the people they ordered him to kill. In one of our first sessions together he said that he sees the situation as either becoming or a monster or successfully fighting them off and becoming a hero,” Amy explains.

“And how does Mr. Barnes compare to other victims of torture you’ve treated?” 

“After I read through his file I realized that he’s the worst case I’ve ever seen,” Amy admits. 

“In your professional opinion, was Mr. Barnes of sound mind when he committed the crimes he stands accused of?” Justin asks. 

“No. He described having his memory wiped multiple times and, according to the records from Hydra we were able to recover, every trace of his personality was erased. He didn’t have a sense of a self at the time. He depended solely on his handlers for everything.” 

“And what sort of things would that include?”

“Everything from basic needs like food, clothing, shelter, and hygiene to being prepared and sent on missions for Hydra. He wasn’t allowed any sort of autonomy. Hydra essentially broke him down to the level of an infant and then built him back up as a cold, calculated killing machine with no thoughts or feelings of his own.”

“And what would have happened after Mr. Barnes escaped?” 

Amy presses her lips together and her expression is severe. “He would have been completely disoriented, acting mostly on instinct to protect himself. Trusting others would not have been an option for him either.” 

She doesn’t know how right she is. After leaving Steve on the riverbank Bucky had run, not knowing where he was going but his legs had carried him to a Hydra safe house. He’d killed the man guarding it and used the place to hide out for a few days so he could have some adequate food and sleep. He’d also changed his clothes to better blend in when he was ready to leave. 

After that he’d run and kept running, never staying in the same place for more than a few days at a time, always sneaking away under the cover of darkness and always, always looking over his shoulder for Hydra. Eventually he’d landed in Romania. Something he’s never been able to put his finger on kept him in place until Steve found him and took him home.

Bucky drifts back to the present and finds that Justin has finished questioning Amy. He watches as the prosecutor gets up and stalks towards her with a malicious look on her face. He swallows hard, knowing that this isn’t going to be good. 

“Ms. Sullivan, would you consider it a conflict of interest for you to treat Mr. Barnes?” she asks. 

“No,” Amy answers calmly but Bucky can tell the question has thrown her a bit off balance.

“So you don’t consider your relationship to be an issue, then?”

“Which relationship?” Amy inquires. She’s not going to let the prosecutor get to the answer easily but Bucky hopes that it doesn’t come off as stalling to the judges. 

The prosecutor struts closer to the witness stand, looking rather smug, and Bucky decides that the bird she most resembles is a peacock. “Is it true that you were in a relationship with Brock Rumlow?” 

Bucky feels the bottom drop out of his stomach because it can’t be true. It just can’t. He’s never once asked Amy about her personal life but he thinks she would have told him if there was anything that have conflicted with her treating him. “Yes,” Amy answers. Her eyes meet Bucky’s, pleading with him to understand but he looks away, unable to look at her with the emotions of hurt and betrayal roiling within him.

“Objection! Relevance!” Justin’s shouting next to him but to Bucky he might as well be speaking from the end of a long tunnel.

“Overruled,” Judge Asada orders. 

“How did you meet Brock Rumlow?” the prosecutor prompts. Bucky swallows hard, wishing that he could get up and run from the courtroom, as far away as possible and then some. 

“We got on the same elevator at SHIELD headquarters.” 

“And how long were you in a relationship for?” 

“Three months,” Amy answers. 

“And how did it end?” the prosecutor leers.

Amy’s dropped her eyes to her lap now and she looks a little bit nervous but then she seems to decide that she’s going to be defiant, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin to look at the woman across from her. “It ended when Project Insight was taken down by Captain America. That’s when I found out that the man I thought I knew was all a bunch of lies.” 

“And do you know what happened to him afterwards?” the prosecutor asks.

“No,” Amy retorts, “because from that moment on I was done with him. I blocked his number and all of his social media and I don’t really care where he ended up.” 

“So you had no idea that he had rejoined some allies from Hydra and was heading their reformed organization?” 

If Amy’s shocked by this news she doesn’t show it, glaring murderously at the prosecutor as she snaps, “As I just said, I have no idea where he ended up. I don’t care where he is, what’s he doing, or if he’s even alive and if he ever tries to get back into my life he’ll wish he’d never been born.” 

The prosecutor tries again. “And you were not informed of Mr. Rumlow’s death?” 

Amy grits her teeth and breathes slowly, in and out several times, and Bucky can see her almost visibly counting to five. When she does answer it’s with a deadly calm that’s clearly taking all of her self control to muster. “No, I wasn’t informed as I was never listed as his next of kin. We didn’t even live together.”

“Were you aware of Mr. Barnes’ kidnapping at the hands of Mr. Rumlow?” 

“No,” Amy says curtly. 

“Did Mr. Barnes not bring that up in one of your sessions?” 

“We talked about the kidnapping because it increased the number of nightmares he had for several weeks but he didn’t give any specifics about who was involved. I took that to mean he either didn’t know them or didn’t remember, given that they attempted to wipe his memory while he was in captivity.”

It’s true. In the beginning Bucky had been barely able to recall names and faces of the Hydra members who had been responsible for him over the years due to the memory wipes. Later on he never mentioned Rumlow by name, preferring to refer to the Hydra team in very unflattering and colourful language, much to Amy’s amusement. Their main focus had been on coping with the nightmares and anxiety that he’d been feeling during his recovery, spending very little time on the particulars of his kidnapping. 

“And you didn’t ask?” the prosecutor counters. 

“I had no idea that Brock was alive or that he was still involved with Hydra. I assumed that he was either dead or he’d run to avoid being tracked down when SHIELD reformed,” Amy says. 

The prosecutor has that nasty smirk on her face again as she announces, “No further questions your honour,” and Bucky feels like he wants to punch it off of her, preferably after he’s finished mangling Dr. Ruys. 

“Re-direct, your honour,” Justin calls. He strides up the witness stand and begins to question Amy once more. “Did Brock Rumlow ever divulge anything about his job to you?” 

“No, he told me very little,” Amy states. 

“Did you know what he did within SHIELD?” 

“I knew he was a member of the Strike Team but he wasn’t allowed to tell me what they got up to since the missions they went on were considered covert.” 

“Did he ever say or do anything that made you suspicious of him?” 

“No,” Amy insists, “I’d see him sometimes with injuries but all he’d say is that he got them on a mission and couldn’t talk about it. He had me convinced that he was SHIELD through and through; gave me a lot of speeches about how he was on the strike team to help do some good in the world and keep people safe. I guess it was all a bunch of lies designed to make me trust him more.” 

“When you received copies of Hydra’s files from Mr. Stark did you find anything pertaining to Mr. Rumlow?” 

“No, I didn’t. There wasn’t a lot to them because they were heavily damaged.” 

“Did you find anything relating to double agents at all?” 

“Nothing. It was mostly notes from scientists about the procedures Mr. Barnes was subjected to.” 

“When Mr. Barnes described his treatment at the hands of Hydra, did he mention anyone who resembled Brock Rumlow?” 

“No.” 

Justin gives Amy a small smile before continuing with, “Can you explain what a conflict of interest is in the field of therapy?”

“It pertains to anything that could keep the therapist from being impartial and objective when treating a patient.” 

“Can you give us some examples?”

Amy nods and Bucky notes that she looks more confident than she did when she was being cross-examined. “It’s things like counselling friends, relatives, or co-workers; becoming personally involved in the patient’s life outside of the therapeutic setting; consulting someone who’s close to the client, such as a friend or family member about the patient’s actions; or accepting gifts from patients.”

“Do you and Mr. Barnes have a personal relationship?”

Amy shakes her head. “No, we don’t. I see him once a week at Stark Tower for our session and that’s it.”

“Have you ever spoken to Captain Rogers about Mr. Barnes’ treatment?”

“No,” Amy says. 

“Have you ever accepted a gift from Mr. Barnes?” 

“No, he’s never even offered me anything.” 

“You were hired by Mr. Stark, correct?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have a personal relationship with him?” 

“No.” 

“How did he contact you?” 

“Through my private practice. He had someone contact my office on his behalf,” Amy says.

“Have you met Mr. Stark in person?” 

“No, but I have met some of his staff, along with Pepper Potts. She’s the one who gave me my security clearance and showed me around the tower.”

“How many times have you met Miss Potts?” 

“Only once. After that I was to direct all questions to JARVIS, Mr. Stark’s artificial intelligence system.” 

“Have you had contact with any former members of SHIELD?” Justin questions. 

“Only the ones I had a professional relationship with. Psychologists tend to keep contact information in case they need to refer patients to each other,” Amy says. 

“Have you had any contact with anyone from the former Strike Force?” 

“No.” 

“Have you received any messages that might have indicated to you that Brock Rumlow was alive?” 

“No,” Amy says coolly. Bucky can tell she’s starting to grow weary of the constant barrage of questions. 

“No further questions, your honour,” Justin announces, striding away from the witness stand.

Amy is permitted to leave after that and she seems to take her time standing up and preparing to leave. Bucky finally looks her directly in the eye and she mouths, “I’m sorry,” before beating a hasty retreat out of the courtroom. 

“I think we turned that around,” Justin whispers but Bucky can’t agree with him. It doesn’t feel like a victory, not when his trust in someone he’s allowed into his new life has been shaken so badly.


	49. Chapter 49

After Amy’s left the courtroom Justin calls in Natasha. She’s dressed in a black pantsuit with a prim-looking white blouse underneath and her is hair pinned back. Her shiny black heels make click-clack noises on the tile floor as she enters and takes her seat at the witness stand, looking as confident as always. When Justin asks her to introduce herself to the court she says, “Natasha Romanoff. I was previously employed by SHIELD but after the wreck in the middle of the Potomac I’ve been mainly freelance.” 

“You’re a friend of both Mr. Barnes and Captain Rogers, correct?” 

“Correct.”

“Can you tell us how you came to know both of them?” 

Natasha smiles at Justin. “I met Steve Rogers when I was recruited into the Avengers Initiative by Nick Fury. I met James Barnes after Steve brought him back to live in the tower.” 

“You are referring to the Avengers Tower, owned by Mr. Stark?” 

“Yes.” 

“How often do you stay there?” Justin asks. 

“That depends on how many missions I go on. If I’m not away I’m at the tower.” 

“Do you and Mr. Barnes spend a lot of time together?”

“We do. We’re often together at team functions in the tower and sometimes one of us will visit the other’s floor. Other times we meet up in the gym,” Natasha says. 

“Has Mr. Barnes ever told you about the treatment he received at the hands of Hydra?” Justin inquires. 

“A bit,” Natasha replies and her usual stone-faced facade softens a fraction. “Neither of us like to talk much about our past but occasionally there are things that only someone who’s been through the same thing as you can understand.”

“You received the same treatment as Mr. Barnes?”

Natasha glances away for a second and Bucky can see her preparing herself for what she’s about to say. He knows that she hates having to publicly acknowledge her past because it brings up a great sense of shame in her for wrongs she’ll never be able to right. She brings her gaze back to Justin. “I was orphaned at a young age. The Soviet Union made me a ward of the government and recruited me to the Red Room. I was raised to be both an assassin and a spy. I spent my entire childhood in training for it and when I became an adult I was put to work for them.” 

"Would you say that what you experienced was brain-washing?”

Natasha grimaces but then her iron-clad control slams down again and she’s back to calm, cool, and collected. “I would because my training involved being forced to watch videos with subliminal messages in them while being deprived of food and sleep. Sometimes they’d keep me in a room where they would practice interrogation tactics on me for days without rest so I’d be more efficient at resisting them. Other times they’d give me sodium amytal.” 

“Can you explain what that is?” 

Natasha has a wry smile on her face as she says, “Most people call it truth serum but that’s not what they used it for.” 

“And what did the Red Room do with it?” Justin asks. 

“When it’s given slowly by IV it relaxes you and lowers your inhibitions. This makes people more likely to tell you things they’re trying to hide. It also makes you susceptible to having false memories implanted, which is what they did to me.” 

“Objection!” the prosecutor shouts. “Relevance, your honour.” 

“Overruled but get to the point Mr. Reid,” Judge Asada says. 

“Did you ever have your memory erased?” Justin asks. 

“No.” 

“But your memory was modified?”

“It was.” 

“Was there any other abuse that occurred?” 

“Combat training,” Natasha says curtly while focusing her gaze out into the courtroom. She’s not looking at anyone in particular and Bucky knows this is a tactic designed to distance herself from the story she’s telling. “We were trained to fight hand-to-hand and with weapons. The targets were often real people the Red Room deemed expendable or sometimes other girls in the program. Making friends wasn’t safe because at some point you might have to kill someone you cared about in training. They only wanted the strongest.”

“Would you say the Red Room and Hydra are similar to each other?” 

“Similar? Sometimes they were the same organization. They were allies when it suited them and enemies when it didn’t,” Natasha snorts.

Justin changes his line of questioning now. “When you met Mr. Barnes what was he like?” 

“He was guarded, suspicious. I know he was afraid a lot because he just couldn’t trust people and he was confused about who he was.” 

“Did he know he was James Barnes?” 

“He told me he visited the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian but it hadn’t really sunk in yet that he was the man in the museum pictures. It was more like he was a stranger who just happened to look like James,” Natasha says.

“Did this change over time?” Justin asks.

“It did. It took some time though because his memories were slow to return.” 

On Justin’s advice they’ve decided not to tell the court about the trip to Asgard and the use of the tesseract, not wanting the information to get out and possibly attract the wrong kind of attention. The story Justin’s concocted is that Bucky’s memories slowly came back to him over time thanks to the serum. It’s a small lie but an important one to ensure the safety of the earth. “In that time period was Mr. Barnes ever violent?”

“Only when it was necessary,” Natasha answers. 

“Can you describe those times for the court?” 

“There was only one. We had just come back from visiting Thor and we were ambushed by Hydra after the quinjet landed on the roof. ” 

“Did Mr. Barnes kill anyone that time?” 

“He did but it was in self-defense. Hydra was trying to re-capture him and we all fought to keep them from taking him back.”

“How did he react afterwards?” 

“He was upset,” Natasha says and her face has that open expression on it again instead of the hard look she had moments before. “I took him down to the med bay and the staff there said he was in a state of shock. He was also worried about Steve.” 

“Was Captain Rogers injured in the fight?”

“He was grazed by a bullet but he was fine.” 

“Has Mr. Barnes ever seemed remorseful for the murders he committed while in Hydra’s custody?” 

“Yes, he said once that he wanted to find a way to make things right for the families of the people he killed, even if he couldn’t bring back their loved ones,” Natasha responds. 

“What did you tell him?” Justin asks. 

“I told him there isn’t a way. Speaking from experience, I know that the only thing you can do is move on and try not to let your past consume you. Most people won’t want it anyways. You show up in their life and you’re re-opening an old wound that’s taken years to scab over.” 

“Has Mr. Barnes ever expressed a desire for violence against anyone?” 

“Only against Hydra for what they did to him.” 

“Since he began living in the tower has he ever hurt an innocent person?” 

“No.”

“Has Mr. Barnes ever been violent towards anyone who lives in the tower?” 

“No.” 

Justin smiles encouragingly at her and then says, “No further questions, your honour,” before returning to his seat. The prosecutor gets up and stalks towards the witness stand, clearly full of fire and brimstone and ready to rain it down upon Natasha. Bucky chews nervously on his lower lip. This could potentially get ugly. As soon as she opens her mouth he cringes. 

“Ms. Romanoff, how old were you when you committed your first murder for the Red Room?”

Natasha’s mouth is set in a grim line as she eyes the prosecutor with complete disdain. “I was eleven.”

“And who did you kill?” the prosecutor asks. 

Natasha gives her a death stare and her voice is deadly calm when she replies, “Marina Kuznetsov.”

“And who was she to you?” The tone of the prosecutor’s voice is dripping with poison honey and Bucky can feel contempt rising up in him. He wishes again that his cybernetic arm worked so he can punch that smug look off her face. 

Natasha doesn’t rise to the bait though. “She was my best friend,” she acknowledges. 

“Earlier you said that you didn’t have friends in the Red Room. Was that true?” 

Natasha’s glaring daggers at the prosecutor now. If looks could kill that woman would be a smoldering pile of ash on the floor. “I had a best friend, briefly. One of our handlers found out and we were paired together in the next combat training session. They told me to kill her.” 

“Did you?” 

“Our handler said that if I didn’t kill her he’d kill both of us and he had us held at gunpoint. I killed her to survive,” Natasha says darkly. 

“And how did you feel afterwards?” the prosecutor goads. That sally’s clearly hit its mark because Natasha blinks and for a fraction of a second Bucky can tell that she’s fighting the urge to cry. Anyone else would have a hard time seeing it but he knows her facial expressions almost as well as he knows Steve’s.

“I hid under my bed and cried. Three of our handlers dragged me out from underneath it and beat me until I could barely walk. They said I had to learn that I couldn’t trust anyone, ever.” 

“After your killed your best friend, how many other people did you kill?” 

“Objection! Council is badgering the witness!” Justin shouts across the room.

“Sustained,” Judge Asada says.

The prosecutor grits her teeth at that but she changes her line of questioning. “When you were sent on missions, why didn’t you use that as an opportunity to escape?” 

“I’d been raised all my life to believe that the Red Room’s ideologies were one hundred per cent right and that questioning was a good way to get killed. They held me hostage using my own mind.”

“And how did you escape?” 

“SHIELD wanted me killed. They sent Clint Barton to do the job but he made a different call.” Natasha’s back to her usual composed state, seeming almost bland in the face of her answer, as if it doesn’t bother her one bit that she could have died. 

“Was he the reason why SHIELD recruited you?” the prosecutor questions. 

“He was. He convinced me that they could help me escape from the Red Room for good if I agreed to join their team. I was lucky that Nick Fury agreed with him.” 

“Did you join SHIELD solely to save your own life?” the prosecutor presses on. 

“Objection! Council is leading the witness!” Justin says angrily.

“Sustained.”

The prosecutor rephrases her question and tries again. “Why did you join SHIELD?” 

“Because I wanted to leave the Red Room. I was starting to see that they’d filled my head full of lies over the years and that I was on the wrong side. SHIELD was a chance to join the right one,” Natasha replies. 

“Do you think Mr. Barnes will do the same?” 

Natasha shrugs. “What he does with his life is up to him. If he wants to join the Avengers I’d support that but if he never wants to pick up a weapon again that’s okay too.” 

“Do you think that Mr. Barnes is dangerous?” 

“No,” Natasha disagrees, “He wasn’t that sort of person before Hydra got a hold of him and now that he’s getting some memories back he’s no longer a danger to anyone, except Hydra.”

“How do you know he won’t return to Hydra?” 

“Do you honestly think anyone would want to go back after they’ve finally escaped from years of torture and brainwashing? When you realize that you can finally take control of your own life you’ll fight to keep that.” 

“Would you say that Mr. Barnes used excessive force when you were attacked on the roof?” 

“No.”

“How many people did he kill?” 

“I’m not sure. We didn’t stop to count them,” Natasha says flippantly.

“How did he kill them?” the prosecutor demands. 

“I gave him a knife so he could defend himself.” Natasha looks proud at this. 

“Did he stab all of the people he killed?” 

Natasha shrugs and says, “I’m really not sure. He probably stabbed some of them but I was pretty busy trying to make sure that no one from our side was killed or captured.” 

The prosecutor is looking distinctly annoyed now and she decides to try for one last verbal jab. “Do you think either of you will ever be able to atone for your service record against this country?” 

Natasha hesitates for a moment, emotions warring in her eyes, and then concedes, “No, there’s no way to really atone when you’ve taken someone’s life but what I can do is use my freedom to do as much good in the world as possible.” 

“Do you plan to achieve that with more killing?” the prosecutor challenges. 

“The people I kill now are the ones who want to take over the Earth and enslave everyone so I’d say that’s a fair trade. You like your freedom right?” And then Natasha smiles slightly, knowing that she’s won the exchange; game, set, and match. 

The prosecutor somehow manages to look like she’s about to have a coronary without changing her facial expression one iota. “No further questions,” she announces before flouncing back to her seat. 

Bucky slouches in his chair, trying and failing to get comfortable as his metal arm pulls at his back and neck like a lead weight. The only thing that keeps him from screaming right then and there is that Justin’s about to call Tony into the room. He idly wonders what the prosecutor is going to make of Tony Stark and decides that it could be entertaining. His freedom might be hanging in the balance but if Bucky’s going to spend the rest of his life in prison then he’s going to get his kicks where he can before they lock him away.


	50. Chapter 50

Tony enters the courtroom wearing a dark blue suit that probably costs more than a new car. He’s all confidence and charm as he slides into the witness box and grins at Justin, introducing himself to the court by saying, “As you all know, I’m Tony Stark - Iron Man, owner of Stark Industries, master’s degrees in engineering and physics, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and I look damn good in a suit.”

Bucky catches one of the judges stifling a giggle and has to look away before it sets him off as well. The prosecutor is rolling her eyes. Justin doesn’t seem bothered by it all though, jumping right into the questioning before Tony can self-aggrandize anymore. “When did you first meet James Barnes?” 

“When Steve found him and brought him to live at the tower.” 

“Is it true that James Barnes was friends with your father during the war?” Justin asks. 

Tony grins. “Yeah, my old man supplied tech to the military during World War Two and he was part of the team that created Cap. They got to be friends and after Barnes was rescued from the Hydra camp in Azzano he was always wherever Steve was. My dad got to know him pretty well and even gave him a modified sniper rifle.” 

“Did you father tell you stories about the war when you were growing up?” 

“He did.”

“Did he tell you any about Sargent Barnes?” 

“Yeah, a lot. He never shut up about Frosty and Spangles,” Tony snorts. 

“And how did he describe Sargent Barnes?” 

Tony finally looks properly serious now, which is probably a relief for Justin. “My dad always said that he was a war hero. He told me that after the rescue Barnes had a chance to go home but he didn’t take it. He decided to stay and become part of the Howling Commandos, acting as a sniper for their team. He was actually sad when he told me about the mission that Barnes died on and I can count the number of times I saw him sad on one hand because most of the time he’d just get drunk and forget it.” 

“How did he say Mr. Barnes had died?” 

“He was on a mission with the Howling Commandos to capture Arnim Zola. They were on a train together and Barnes ended up going over the side. He fell hundreds of feet down into a ravine so they assumed he was dead but they never did find a body.” 

“Was your father part of the rescue mission?” 

“He supplied some tech that was supposed to help but he didn’t actually go on the mission. They sent two members of the Howling Commandos out. They didn’t find him.” 

“Can you describe how you met Captain Rogers?” 

“We were recruited to the Avengers Initiative together by Nick Fury. Rogers had been thawed out pretty recently at that point so weren’t having exactly having slumber parties and braiding each others hair or anything. We got called in when Thor’s little brother showed up on Earth and brought the Chitauri with him.” 

“You’re referencing Loki?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you know what Captain Rogers did after the battle?”

“He spent his time working for SHIELD. Not entirely sure what he did there because I’d only see him every once in awhile but I’m pretty sure it involved kicking the crap out of some bad guys.” 

“Did Captain Rogers ever talk about Mr. Barnes?” Justin asks.

“He did, a bit,” Tony admits. “I talked him into going out for a drink with me after we were both done for the day at SHIELD’s headquarters. I thought he should live a little, you know? Anyways, I had a shit ton of alcohol that night so I’m pretty sure he felt comfortable talking to me cause he thought I wouldn’t remember it but he told me that Barnes was his best friend and that he had died.” 

“Did he say how he felt about Mr. Barnes’ death?” 

Tony frowns and fidgets a little in the witness box. “He said it was like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and thrown it down the ravine after Barnes.” 

Bucky chews on his lower lip. He can’t look at Tony right now, unable to think of anything but the fall from the train and Steve’s face creasing with grief as Bucky plummeted down into the ravine. He wishes Steve was here right now to serve as living proof that they both came out alive, that Hydra could never take everything completely from Bucky because of the one person who never gave up on him. A lump forms in his throat. Bucky swallows hard around it, trying to take deep breaths and keep the tears pricking his eyes at bay. 

“When did he go looking for Mr. Barnes?”

“After the crash in the middle of the Potomac. When he healed up from his injuries he took off, spent two years looking for Barnes.” 

“Did you help with the search?” 

“I did. JARVIS helped Rogers search for Barnes and eventually found him living in an apartment in Bucharest.” 

“And who is JARVIS?” 

“He’s the artificial intelligence system I designed. He basically runs the tower and keeps an eye on things for me. He’s sort of like a security system, research firm, and personal assistant all rolled into one.” Tony looks ridiculously proud of himself. 

“Is it true that you are in possession of some encrypted Hydra files?” 

“They’re Hydra’s files all right, but they’re not encrypted any more,” Tony replies.

“You were able to decode them?”

“I was.” 

“And how did you get the files?” 

“I’m sure by now everyone’s familiar with the story of how Hydra grew inside of SHIELD and then tried to massacre a bunch of people. Natasha dumped most of their secrets online but the Winter Soldier files were encrypted so she passed them on to me,” Tony explains. 

“When you finished decoding them what did you find?” 

“They were mostly case notes about the Winter Soldier project and a couple of videos.” 

“Did you read the case notes?” Justin asks.

“I did.” 

“What did they say?” 

Tony hesitates for a moment and swallows hard before he’s able to answer, “They were notes written by Dr. Arnim Zola, the asshole who was in charge of the Winter Soldier project. They…they described torturing Barnes and it was…not something I’d ever want to read again.” 

“What did you do with this information?”

“I passed it on to Barnes so he could read it for himself if he wanted to,” Tony says, fidgeting with one of his cuff links.

“Did you send it to anyone else?” Justin questions.

“Barnes’ psychologist and his neurologist.” 

“How many people in total have read the files?” 

“There’s five of us: Barnes, Cap, me, and the doctors.”

“And you worked with Mr. Barnes’ doctors to remove the trigger words?” 

“I did.” 

“Can you please describe for the court how you removed the trigger words?” 

Tony grins confidently and Bucky finds himself impressed at just how boldly the man can lie, even when he’s under oath. “I adapted some of the core code I used during the whole Ultron debacle to create an algorithm that, to put it in terms easy enough for the masses to understand, ‘flushed out’ the words from Barnes’ brain so that the verbal triggers no longer work. The docs helped me by monitoring his brain with scans to make sure he didn’t suffer any sort of brain damage.”

“And this procedure was a success?” Justin asks. 

“A great one. Just another example of how impressive I am,” Tony boasts. Bucky has to bite his tongue to keep from letting a chuckle escape. 

“Did you help with the press conference announcing that Mr. Barnes had been found alive?” 

“I supplied the financial backing but I have to give the rest of the credit to Pepper,” Tony says, winking across the courtroom at her. Bucky wishes he could see her reaction because she’s probably mortified right now. 

“And who is Pepper?” 

“She’s my girlfriend and the CEO of Stark Industries.” 

“Did either you or Ms. Potts speak to the press about Mr. Barnes?” 

“Nope,” Tony says, popping the p. “We let Barnes and Noble do all of the talking so they could tell their story in their own words.”

“And how was the press conference received by the public?”

“They loved them. Suddenly we had so many interview requests that I had to get JARVIS to sort through them all and pick out the best ones.”

Justin returns to the subject of the Hydra files again and Bucky realizes that he was giving Tony some time to settle his emotions before asking him to speak about what he read. “Why did you not release the Hydra files to the public?” 

Tony chews on his lower lip, another tell that his brash exterior is hiding a man who’s clearly both disgusted and afraid of what he read in those files. “I wanted to leave that up to Barnes. It should be his decision if the public gets to know what was done to him.” 

“Can you describe what you saw in those files in detail?” Justin asks gently.

Bucky can see Tony visibly tensing before he spits out, “Arnim Zola’s notes said James Barnes was pulled out of the Danube River and brought back Zola’s lab. He didn’t think of James as a person, he just saw another experiment. He was missing part of his arm so they cut off what was left and surgically attached a prosthetic without any sort of anesthetic. They wanted him conscious. They wanted him in pain!” 

“What did they do after attaching the arm?” 

“They kept him in captivity and did things to him that would make Guantanamo Bay look like Disneyland.” 

“What sort of things did they do?” Justin prompts. 

Tony lets out a sigh, realizing that he isn’t going to get away with anything less than a detailed description. “They did everything they could to break his will. Barnes fought them at every chance he got but he was outnumbered and there was no way he was ever going to escape. They beat him severely, deprived him of sleep, kept him chained up for days…” Tony stops for a moment and blinks hard. 

He breathes in and out a few times to regain his composure before continuing. “James wasn’t breaking fast enough for them. They wanted him to be ‘the fist of Hydra’ but no matter how much they tortured him he wouldn’t kill for them. Zola decided that brainwashing was the best course of action to fix that so he invented a machine that can wipe memories.”

“Did this cause Mr. Barnes any pain?” Justin asks.

Tony looks incredulous. “Of course it did. From what I’ve been able to estimate it would have been the equivalent of a normal human being getting shocked with one hundred thousand volts, killing them instantly. Apparently they’d pumped him full of super serum back in Azzano and it allowed them to erase his memory without turning him into a pile of ash.”

“What do you mean by super serum?” 

“My old man worked with Dr. Abraham Erskine to turn a skinny runt into Captain America using a combination of vita rays and a serum that Erskine designed. No one knows for sure what the formula was because Erskine never kept any notes and the blood samples they took from Rogers afterwards didn’t give them the full picture. A lot of people have tried to replicate it over the years. Most of them failed pretty spectacularly but if anyone was going to come close it was Arnim Zola.” 

“Do you know anyone who’s tried?” 

Tony’s lips quirk up just a fraction at the question. “Bruce Banner. I know you’re all familiar with the way that he turns into an enormous green rage monster who destroys entire city blocks.” 

“Did your father ever try?” 

“He did. I have reason to think that he succeeded and that’s why Hydra had him killed. They stole it.”

“Do you think there are other Winter Soldiers out there?” 

“I didn’t find any evidence that they actually used the serum. Maybe those notes were lost or it just turned out to be no good after all but I’m pretty sure that Hydra would have had something in those files on other soldiers if they’d accomplished creating more of them.”

“Did your father leave behind any evidence that he’d been working on recreating the serum?” 

“I went through everything he left behind and I didn’t find anything. He was secretive though. There were a lot of things he’d been involved in with SHIELD that I didn’t find out about until long after his death,” Tony says and he looks so weary that Bucky’s worried he might break. He knows that Tony and Howard were never very close and that Tony hates being asked about his parents’ deaths, especially in public.

“No further questions,” Justin says, stepping down and heading back to his seat. 

The prosecutor struts across the floor and Bucky glowers at her as she approaches the stand. “Mr. Stark, how old you were you when your parents died?” Bucky clenches his flesh hand in frustration, wishing for the millionth time that he could attack her for deciding to go right for Tony’s Achilles heel.

“I was twenty,” Tony says quietly.

“How did their loss impact you?” 

“I…” Tony hesitates, then clears his throat and tries again. “It was devastating. I never got to say good-bye to them.” 

“And how was your relationship with them?” 

“Objection, irrelevant!” Justin interjects. 

“Does this have a point councillor?” Judge Asada asks.

“It does your honour,” the prosecutor is quick to reassure him. 

“I’ll allow it. Answer the question Mr. Stark.” 

“Mom and I got along fine but I didn’t have the best relationship with my dad. I know he loved me but he had a hard time showing it. Things might have gotten better as I grew into an adult but he died and we never had the chance,” Tony says as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“When were you parents killed?”

“December sixteenth, nineteen-ninety one. Christmas was a real downer that year but then again it always was because my old man couldn’t lay off the sauce,” Tony says bitterly.

Bucky chews nervously on his lower lip. He knows exactly where this is going and he wishes that there was some way he could protect Tony from having to testify about the event that forever changed his life. “Do you know who killed your parents?” the prosecutor prods. 

Tony nods. “I do.” 

“And who killed them?”

“Hydra,” Tony says defiantly.

The prosecutor isn’t about to let him get away with that answer though. “Was there a specific Hydra operative who killed them?”

“Yes.”

“Can you name them?” 

“The Winter Soldier,” Tony admits.

The prosecutor is looking smug now and Bucky wants to wipe that expression off her face. “Why did you allow the man who murdered your parents to live under your roof?” 

“Because what happened to him wasn’t his fault. Once I cracked the Hydra files wide open it was all there for me to see. Hydra were the ones who masterminded the entire thing because they wanted the serum my dad had created and they used Barnes to achieve it. He had nothing to do with the reason or the planning for the murder. He was just another weapon to Hydra. He would never have killed them of his own free will,” Tony snaps. 

“Did you know this before or after he came to live with you?” 

“I learned about it before he started living at the tower. I investigated my parents’ deaths a long time ago and I knew Hydra had murdered them. I just didn’t know why or the identity of the man who killed them until later on.” 

“Did you know anything about the Winter Soldier previous to meeting Mr. Barnes?” 

“No much,” Tony supplies. “I spent a lot of time chasing rumours over the years and the only thing I knew for sure was that Hydra had a specific operative they would send in whenever they wanted someone high profile taken care of.” 

“So you harbour no resentment towards Mr. Barnes?” the prosecutor asks skeptically. 

“No, not after what I read in those files,” Tony replies. 

“So you did feel resentment at one time?” 

“Objection, badgering the witness!” Justin calls out, leaping up from his chair to face the judges.

“Sustained.”

“Do you remember a piece published in Time magazine back in 1992?”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t remember. I do a lot of press.”

The prosecutor stalks back to her table, pulls a sheet of paper from a folder, and brings it to Tony. “Your honour, I am introducing exhibit A. This is the Time article that referenced Tony Stark. Would you please read this out loud Mr. Stark?”

Tony looks visibly irritated. “I don’t like being handed things.” 

The prosecutor thrusts the paper at Tony, holding it only a few inches from his face, and instructs, “I’ll hold it. You just need to read the part I’ve highlighted.” 

“The beloved billionaire inventor and his wife of forty-six years leave behind one son, Anthony Edward Stark. In a press conference early yesterday morning he vowed to find his parents’ killer and seek revenge,” Tony reads out. 

The prosecutor lowers the paper and asks, “Did you ever say that?” 

“I might have. Come on, I was a twenty year old kid who was pissed off at the world because I never got to say good-bye to my mom and dad before they kicked the bucket. I probably said a lot of things because I was grieving,” Tony insists.

“If you were given a chance at revenge would you take it?” 

“Objection! Badgering the witness!” Justin snaps, rising from his chair again.

“Sustained,” Judge Asada says. 

The prosecutor decides to change her line of questioning and instead goes for, “How old were you when you took over as CEO of Stark Industries?” 

“I was twenty-one,” Tony replies.

“Do you feel you were equipped to run a company at that age?” 

“I had help…or at least I thought I did until Obadiah Stane decided to create his own version of my suit and attempt to kill me with it.”

“And what kind of business does Stark Industries conduct?”

“We started off primarily as a defense company, creating advanced weapons and tech for the military. In later years we stopped making weapons but kept up the production of vehicles, aircraft, and armor; plus we diversified into renewable energy, personal tech, commercial business tech, and secured a partnership with the federal government to remove alien artifacts found in New York. They even created a new department for me - the Department of Damage Control. Stark Industries also holds all copyrights to Avengers merchandise and has a manufacturing division dedicated solely to it,” Tony brags. 

“Why did you stop making weapons?” 

“I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons that I’d created to protect and defend them. I’d become part of a system that’s comfortable with zero accountability and I realized that I could offer the world more than just making things that blow up. I didn’t want a body count to be the legacy of Stark Industries. We can do better.” 

Bucky’s cheering internally at that. The prosecutor’s going to have a hard time turning that one around and she looks incredibly annoyed. “You were held in captivity for over a month, correct?” 

“That’s right.” 

“What did you experience while you were being held?” 

“Objection! Relevance!” Justin interjects. 

“Sustained.” 

“Why were you captured?” 

“Obadiah Stane was trafficking our weapons to criminals all over the world and he didn’t want me to find out. He decided the best way to do that was to pay off a terrorist organization called the Ten Rings to kidnap and kill me; then he could become CEO of Stark Industries,” Tony says. 

“Why didn’t they kill you?” 

“Because Obie was an idiot. He didn’t tell them that they were kidnapping ‘the great Tony Stark’ as they put it. Once they figured out just who they had in their cave they sent a video to him and demanded more cash. I guess it’s a lucky thing that he refused to pay because otherwise my goose would have been cooked. It bought me enough time to pretend I was creating a Jericho missile for them when what I was really doing was building a suit so I could escape.” 

“Do you feel your captivity is a reason to sympathize with James Barnes?”

“Absolutely,” Tony agrees. “I’m not saying that what I went through was comparable but I know what it’s like to have someone force you to do things you don’t want to do under threat of torture.” 

The prosecutor seems determined to hammer on with the line of questioning until Tony gives her the answer she wants. “Did you ever feel any anger towards Captain Rogers for bringing a murderer into your home?” 

Tony fixes with her with a gaze that could melt steel. “It would be awfully hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it? Pretty much everyone I house has killed someone at some point, even me. It comes with the job.”

“So you don’t feel Mr. Barnes is a threat to any of the staff you employ?” the prosecutor says skeptically.

“He’s not a threat. He’s been nothing but a model house guest since he started living at the tower and my staff haven’t had any issues with him,” Tony insists.

The prosecutor’s glaring at Tony and her jaw is set in a tight line. Bucky wants to leap up and punch the air, barely able to contain his schadenfreude at her being unable to trip up Tony Stark in her cross-examination. She tries for one last salvo though, strutting closer to the witness stand and asking, “Do you think your father would approve of you housing his murderer?” 

Tony seems nonchalant. “I don’t really care what my dad would have approved of. I don’t live my life by what a dead man thinks of me.” 

“No further questions,” the prosecutor snaps. She storms back to her table and drops into her chair. 

Judge Asada declares that court is adjourned for the day and everyone begins packing up to leave. Before he’s taken away, Bucky can’t help but take one last look at the prosecutor, who’s throwing files angrily into a briefcase. He can’t wait to see what happens when she has to take on Steve.


	51. Chapter 51

Although being woken up at the crack of dawn, searched, and carted off to the courthouse has now become second nature to Bucky, he can’t help but feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Today’s the day that Steve is going to testify. Bucky hasn’t seen him since the trial started and he’s looking forward to finally laying eyes on his boyfriend. It’s also the day that Bucky himself will testify. 

He sits quietly as Judge Asada brings the court into session and Justin calls Steve to the stand. Steve enters wearing a three piece charcoal-coloured suit with a white shirt and red tie that makes him resemble a banker. Pepper must have helped pick it out because it’s definitely to her taste. “Please state your name and occupation for the court,” Justin says.

“I’m Steve Rogers. I’m a member of the Avengers,” he replies. 

“You are Captain America, correct?”

“Yes,” Steve says. Bucky’s glad to see that he doesn’t look nervous. He looks just as calm as Natasha did during her testimony, probably thanks to the amount of practice Justin’s put him through. 

“Can you please describe how you met James Barnes?” 

Steve smiles. “We met when we were kids. I was seven and Bucky was eight. My ma had given me a few pennies to go buy some candy at the store but these two older boys decided they were going to steal it from me. I was getting beaten pretty good when Bucky intervened. He slugged the bigger one, dropped him just like a sack of potatoes, and then told the smaller one to get lost.” 

“Did you become friends afterwards?” 

“We did. We were inseparable after that,” Steve chuckles. 

“Did you ever live together?” Justin asks. 

“We moved in together after my ma died. I couldn’t afford the rent on my apartment because I was sick a lot and couldn’t hold down a job. Bucky was staying there most of the time to help out anyways so we just decided to get a place of our own. We had to move into a smaller one because that was all we could afford.” 

“How did Mr. Barnes assist you during that time?” 

“Bucky had a job at the docks and he mostly paid the rent and the bills for us. I’d contribute whenever I could work but I kept getting fired when I’d get sick.”

“Did Mr. Barnes take care of you when you were sick?”

“He did. He’d work all day and then come home and spend the night sleeping in a chair next to my bed in case I needed to take medicine or wanted help to go to the bathroom. There were times when I was so weak he’d have to carry me.” 

“Would you say that Mr. Barnes is a selfless person?” 

Steve looks directly at Bucky when he speaks and there’s a softness to his expression that makes Bucky’s heart rate rise and his stomach flutter. “Bucky’s always been selfless. He had a hard life but he never complained.”

“When did the war start?” Justin asks. 

“The Fall of nineteen-thirty nine.” 

“Did Mr. Barnes enlist or was he drafted?”

“He enlisted and I was pretty upset about it because they wouldn’t take me.” Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at the indignation that still fills Steve’s voice, even after all these years. 

“How did this affect your living situation?” 

“I told Bucky I’d get by on my own but he insisted that he was going to send me some of his pay so that I’d be okay financially,” Steve says and there’s that soft look again in Bucky’s direction. 

“And how much did he make?” 

Steve grins. “About fifty dollars a month. We thought we had it made.” There’s a chuckle from the judges’ table but Bucky doesn’t look up to see who it was. He can imagine that fifty dollars must seem like a paltry sum to someone who wasn’t alive during the forties. 

“When did he leave for war?” 

Steve’s brow furrows in concentration and he seems hesitant for a moment. Then he speculates, “I think it was the beginning of forty-two. I’m not one hundred percent sure on that but I know it was the winter I came down with pneumonia and the doc said I’d be lucky if I lived till spring.” 

“Why didn’t Mr. Barnes sign up as soon as the war began?” 

“Bucky thought I’d be on my own and wouldn’t be able to take care of myself. He wanted to work and make sure I had a roof over my head.”

“Why did he change his mind?” Justin queries. 

“Because a recruiter told him how much money he’d be making. He was only getting minimum wage down at the docks and he always jumped at the chance to earn some extra cash.”

“What did you do when he left?” 

Steve’s smiling fondly at Bucky, who holds his gaze and lifts an eyebrow in disapproval. “I didn’t even wait until he left to try enlisting again. The night before Bucky was supposed to ship out we went out to the Stark Expo with some girls and then we were supposed to go dancing. I never made it to the dance hall. I walked into another recruiting office.” 

“What was Mr. Barnes’ reaction to that?” 

“He was pretty mad at me. We had an argument right in the lobby but there was no talking me out of it so he wished me luck and then took off with both of our dates.” Bucky wants to groan in frustration. He’d been trying to keep Steve safe but the little shit had talked his way into being a science experiment out of sheer desperation to join the army at any cost.

“When did you see Mr. Barnes again?” Justin asks. 

Steve’s smile drops and his brows knit together. “We found each other again in Azzano.” 

“Why were you there?” 

Steve squares his shoulders and seems to sit up straighter in his seat, his posture ramrod stiff, and Bucky can tell that he’s slipping into the stern persona of Captain America. “I was with the USO at the time. After the formula for the serum died with Dr. Erskine, the army didn’t want me. Senator Brant said that he could get me in if I agreed to do the Captain America show so I joined up and we went on tour.” 

“How did you find out that Mr. Barnes had been captured?”

“When we landed in Azzano I found out from Peggy Carter that my audience was made up of what was left of the hundred and seventh after the rest had been captured. Colonel Phillips was writing condolence letters so I asked him if he had heard of James Barnes. He told me the name sounded familiar but he wouldn’t give me any more details, just told me to go back to the USO.”

“What did you do then?” Justin probes.

“I decided I was going across enemy lines to rescue Bucky. Howard Stark and Peggy Carter flew me over no man’s land and dropped me off.” Bucky has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Steve would do something completely heroic and idiotic to start his first mission as Captain America. 

“After the rescue, when did you form the Howling Commandos?”

“Very shortly. I’m not certain of the exact time frame.” Steve’s face scrunches adorably in concentration and Bucky wishes that he could kiss that look right off of him. 

“What was Mr. Barnes’ role on the team?” 

“He was our sniper and he was damn good at it,” Steve says proudly. 

“Can you describe the mission that resulted in Mr. Barnes’ death?”

Steve grimaces, turnin somber. “Arnim Zola was travelling and our objective was to capture him so he could give us information about Red Skull’s plans. Bucky, Gabe, and I zip lined down to the train, broke in, and tried to get to Dr. Zola. We didn’t count on him having so many guards, especially one that was armoured in something that looked like an Iron Man suit. He got the jump on us and blew a hole in the side of the train. I got knocked over but Bucky was holding my shield while he was shooting at him and the soldier fired back. The blast pushed him through the hole and left him hanging on to a railing on the side so I tried to climb down to save him but...it was…it was too late. I didn’t…I didn’t get to him in time. The railing broke and Bucky fell.” 

Steve’s voice grows hoarse by the end and he’s blinking rapidly as though trying to stave off tears. It makes Bucky’s heart ache. All he wants is to take Steve in his arms and hold him until he finally believes that he wasn’t at fault. “Was there a rescue mission?” Justin inquires.

“We sent Dum Dum and Morita down to recover the body but they didn’t find it. We assumed he was dead. He fell so far…” Steve’s voice cracks on the last word and Bucky feels his heart breaking for the pain Steve still feels and how he’s tortured himself over the years thinking it was his fault. Bucky wants to tell the entire court to go fuck itself, grab Steve, and run away to a place where they can be alone together. 

Justin waits for a few moments, giving Steve a little time to compose himself, then continues, “Can you describe the mission that ended in you crashing the Valkyrie?” 

Steve swallows hard but he seems to have gotten himself together. His voice is steady when he says, “It was our attack on the last Hydra stronghold. Johann Schmidt was going to fly the Valkyrie over all of the major cities and use the tesseract he’d stolen as a weapon to kill as many people as he could. I was able to sneak onto the plane. We fought.”

“What happened to Schmidt?”

“I knocked him backwards with my shield and it hit the console in the middle of the plane. This…thing popped up and the tesseract was sitting right in the middle of it. Schmidt picked it up and it started glowing and sparks were shooting out of it. It opened some sort of…I don’t know how to describe it but I guess the best word would be portal. Everything got really bright and then it just kind of sucked him in and he was gone.” 

“Do you have any idea of where he went?” 

“No idea,” Steve says.

“What happened then?” 

“I…” Steve hesitates again and Bucky’s back to wishing that he could give his boyfriend a hug. “I couldn’t stop the Valkyrie in time. Peggy was on the radio talking about helping me find a safe landing zone but I knew there wasn’t time. I crashed it into the ocean.” 

“Were you conscious?” 

Steve draws his lower lip under his top teeth and worries it there as his breath becomes shallower and shorter, a sure sign of the fear and nervousness that courses through him whenever he’s forced to talk about the Valkyrie. “Barely,” he says softly. “I took a hard hit to the head when the plane crashed and I was almost unconscious. All I can remember is dark and cold.” 

“Did you think you were going to die?” 

“Objection! Relevance!” The prosecutor calls from her table. 

“Sustained. This isn’t a history lesson on Captain Rogers, councilor. Get to the point,” Judge Asada commands.

“When did you find out Mr. Barnes was alive?” 

“When Jasper Sitwell was killed. We were ambushed by the Winter Soldier and I fought him. I had no idea it was Bucky until his mask came off and I saw his face for the first time.”

“Did he recognize you?” 

“No,” Steve says and his jaw is set in a grim line. “I said his name and he said, ‘Who the hell is Bucky?’ After that he disappeared.” 

“When did you see him again?” 

“On the helicarrier.”

“Did he recognize you then?” 

“No, he didn’t know who I was,” Steve says. 

“Did he attack you?” 

“He did. I told him that I had to stop the helicarrier or else a bunch of innocent people were going to die and he didn’t even react. He wasn’t my Bucky then, he was a stranger.” Steve’s voice wavers a little and Bucky feels angry at the unfairness of the situation, wishing that Steve didn’t have to be dragged back through the worst moments of his life to pay the price yet again for Bucky’s freedom. 

“What happened when the helicarrier went down?”

“Bucky and I fought. He shot me twice; once in the leg and once in the stomach but I still managed to get the chips in the control center switched. Maria Hill took control and set the helicarriers to fire at each other. I kept trying to get Bucky to recognize me because there was no way in hell I was going to leave him behind. Only time in my life I ever wouldn’t fight back.” 

“When did you lose consciousness?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says softly. “All I can remember is waking up in the hospital. Natasha told me that Bucky saved my life. He dragged me out of the water and left me on the riverbank.” 

“Is there anything you said or did that could have necessitated that action?” 

“I’m not entirely sure but I think it’s because I said something we used to say to each other when we were younger.” 

“And what was that?” 

“I’m with you till the end of the line. It’s kind of our way of saying I love you,” Steve explains.

“When did your relationship become romantic?” Justin asks. Bucky tenses. He knows that times are different now and their relationship isn’t exactly a secret but he can’t help worrying about how the court is going to view it. He knows there are still some very homophobic people in the world and he hopes that none are present today. Justin had also insisted that it be part of his line of questioning, simply because he doesn’t want to give the prosecutor any more ammunition to ambush them with. 

Steve, however, takes the question in stride without any shame. “It was a few months after Bucky came to live in the tower with me.” 

“So you weren’t in a relationship before you went into the ice?”

“No.” 

“Did you two have feelings for each other?” 

“We did but it would have been too dangerous for us to be together. Things were different back then and we would’ve had to hide our relationship. If anyone ever found out we would have been killed or treated like we were mentally ill,” Steve reveals. 

“Do you feel safe around Mr. Barnes?” 

“Absolutely,” Steve agrees. “Bucky’s not a violent person. Since he moved into the tower and his memories started to return he’s been more like his old self.” 

“Has he ever threatened you?” 

“No.” 

“Has he ever broken any of your possessions?”

“Two lamps after having nightmares. After what Bucky went through I’d expect it though,” Steve says nonchalantly, as if he’s talking about the weather. 

“Does Mr. Barnes ever tell you about the content of these nightmares?” 

Steve’s eyes drop to his lap and he takes in a breath, waiting a beat before he answers. “He does.” 

“What sort of things does he dream about?” 

“He dreams about being tortured by Hydra and sometimes about the people he’s killed. They’re pretty terrifying for him and he wakes up screaming.” 

“Does he have any other physical symptoms brought on by the nightmares?” 

Steve’s brow scrunches together. “Sometimes he’ll wake up and start crying or he’ll throw up if the dream was really violent. A few times he’s thought he had to defend himself, jumped out of bed, and run down the hallway.”

“How do you calm him down?”

“I hold him and talk to him, clean up the mess, tell him it’s not his fault.” 

“Does Mr. Barnes feel he’s at fault for the actions he committed?”

“He does but I keep telling him that wasn’t him. It wasn’t the Bucky I know,” Steve says and he’s looking straight at Bucky with his baby blues, silently pleading for his boyfriend to believe him just this once. Bucky drops his gaze to the table.

“Do you feel Mr. Barnes has been making progress since he moved into the tower?”

“Definitely,” Steve agrees and there’s a hint of pride in his voice. “He’s changed a lot since I first brought him to live with me and I can say that he’s doing a lot better now. It’s slow going and it’s not always easy but we’ll get there.” 

Justin gives Steve a look of sympathy and Bucky knows what’s coming now. He’s going to ask about the Hydra files. “When Mr. Stark cracked the Hydra files did you review them?” 

“I did,” Steve says carefully. His expression is looking very pained now. 

“Did you review them on your own or with Mr. Barnes?”

“Together.” 

“Were there videos in the files?” 

“There were but we only watched one.”

“Why was that?” 

Steve chews on his lower lip. “The one we watched was…awful, just awful and it really upset Bucky.”

“What was the content of the video?” 

Steve straightens in his chair again and Bucky can see him steeling himself for what he’s about to say. “They had him strapped down on a table. Then they started sawing off what was left of his left arm so they could attach the prosthetic one. He was screaming so loud and they just…they didn’t care. They didn’t care about how much pain he was in.” Steve’s voice breaks on the last few words. 

Justin waits a beat for Steve to regain some of his composure before he starts in on presenting the video. “Your honour, I would now like introduce exhibit A.” In the few minutes it takes for Justin and the bailiff assisting him to bring in the tv and get the DVD player set up, Bucky meets eyes with Steve.

Steve mouths the words, “I’m sorry.” They both know that if there was any other way they’d avoid having the video played in court. 

The DVD starts and the one voice that Bucky never wants to hear again fills the room. “Session one of the Winter Soldier program. The work on the prosthesis has been completed and the subject is now prepped for the attachment surgery. He will be kept awake to ensure that the procedure is a success.” 

Bucky drops his eyes to his lap, wishing for all the world that he could move his hands enough to cover his ears as well. He tries to hold still in his seat, digging his nails into the palm of his hand in an effort to ground himself. _You’re not there anymore. It’s over now,_ he thinks. 

He doesn’t look up and doesn’t move, focusing on holding himself still and trying to block out the sound of his own screams coming from the video. Only when it’s over does he lift his head. Bucky realizes he’s hyperventilating and tries to concentrate on taking slow, deep breaths. On the stand Steve’s expression is a mixture of horror and sympathy and Bucky can’t hold his gaze. 

When the recording stops, the bailiff wheels the tv away and Justin resumes his questioning. “How did Mr. Barnes react when he saw this footage?” 

“Badly,” Steve says. “He was really angry at Hydra for what they did and then he cried.” 

“No further questions,” Justin says and heads back to his seat.


	52. Chapter 52

It’s the prosecutor’s turn to question Steve and Bucky can’t help but feel a little bit nervous on his behalf. He watches her closely as she sashays up to the witness stand, looking every inch as arrogant as a strutting peacock. Bucky wonders what question she’s going to lead with and isn’t surprised when she goes straight to asking about their relationship. 

“Captain Rogers, do you feel that you treat Mr. Barnes differently than your fellow Avengers?” 

Steve looks utterly perplexed but he makes an effort to properly answer her question. “I suppose I do because he’s my boyfriend and everyone else is just a friend.” He’s got that ‘aw shucks ma’am’ expression on his face that’s never failed to ingratiate him with anyone but Bucky. A chuckle that turns into a cough sounds from the judges’ table. 

“Do you think your judgement is ever impaired when it comes to Mr. Barnes?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Would you protect Mr. Barnes above an innocent bystander?” the prosecutor queries and Bucky feels himself start to seethe inside. It’s a low blow but Steve doesn’t rise to the bait. 

“Bucky is fully capable of protecting himself. I know that I can trust him to have my back in a bad situation so that I can rescue someone who can’t fend for themselves,” Steve says proudly. 

“If Mr. Barnes was injured in a battle situation, who would be your priority?”

“That all depends on the situation. Every mission is different and every one of them has the potential for someone to get seriously hurt so I can’t give a generic answer as to what I would do.” Steve’s sitting rigidly in his seat again, looking every inch of Captain America save for his uniform. 

“During the war, did Mr. Barnes receive any special treatment from you?” 

“We were in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in tents, eating rations, and just trying not to get killed. No one got special treatment,” Steve retorts. 

Seeing that her current line of questioning is getting her nowhere, the prosecutor abandons it. “What was your relationship to Peggy Carter?”

“Objection! Relevance!” Justin barks. 

“Overruled. Answer the question Captain Rogers.”

“We were friends,” Steve answers.

“Do you mean to tell the court that the multiple books written about you are inaccurate?” 

The corners of Steve’s lips turn up and he lets out a tiny laugh. “Most of them are completely wrong because they’re written by people who weren’t there. When I first came out of the ice I read one where the author said that I’d tried to enlist hundreds of times! It was only five.” Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek at that. If Steve hadn’t been chosen for Erskine’s super soldier project who knows how many times he would have tried to enlist. He probably would have kept doing it until the war ended.

“So you weren’t romantically involved?" 

“It’s complicated,” Steve says.

“Can you try to explain that, please?” 

“It’s um…We were…” Steve fumbles before finally finding the right words. “Right from the time I knew what love was my heart always belonged to Bucky but I could never show it. I didn’t even think he felt the same so I told myself that I had to be content with being his best friend, even if that meant letting him go, because I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d meet some nice girl and settle down and have a family. I couldn’t even tell anyone that I’m gay. Somebody finds out your secret, word gets out, and next thing you know you’re carted off to the loony bin. I kept it inside for a long time.

When I met Peggy she was the only person besides Bucky and my ma who really saw me and didn’t just dismiss me for being small and sickly. We became friends. She was smart, funny, and tough as nails. I loved her but it wasn’t the same as the way I love Bucky. It was more like the kind of love you have for a really close friend. I cared about her deeply and it hurt like hell to wake up seventy years later and see her in that nursing home, barely able to remember anything but I don’t want to make it sound like I was leading her on or trying to make her a substitute for Bucky. I just thought I could find some happiness from sharing my life with a friend. 

Then Bucky died and I felt like a piece of myself was gone with him. I threw myself into taking down Johann Schmidt and anyone else who might stand in my way until the Valkyrie happened. I thought I was going to die, that I was going to see Bucky again and finally we’d get to be together.”

Steve’s voice wavers a bit during the last few sentences and Bucky knows just how much it’s costing him to admit those feelings in open court. The prosecutor, however, seems unmoved. “Why did you come out during the press conference?” 

“Because things are different now and we don’t have to hide if we don’t want to. I love Bucky, he loves me and we’re happy together.” 

“Are you aware that your coming out sparked a torrent of a online hatred?” The prosecutor seems almost gleeful in asking that question and Bucky has to dig his knuckles into his thigh to release the anger that boils up inside of him. Steve doesn’t deserve to be hated by anyone, not after all he’s sacrificed for the rest of the world to keep their freedom. How anyone could hate someone so selfless is beyond Bucky. 

Steve doesn’t seem bothered. “I don’t really read that stuff. It’s all just a bunch of internet trolls trying to get a rise out of someone.” 

“Were you aware that there was a petition with seven hundred and thirty-two signatures calling for you to hang up your shield?”

“Nope,” Steve says airily, “and I don’t really care. The moment the earth is under attack again no one’s going to give a shit who I sleep with.” 

In the gallery there’s a distinct tittering from someone who sounds like Pepper and a loud whisper of, “Language,” from someone who’s probably Clint. Bucky rolls his eyes.

Judge Asada bangs his gavel. “Order in the court or I will have the gallery removed,” he snaps.

The prosecutor is looking extremely angry now. Once things have quieted down, she begins her cross-examination again. “Why didn’t you personally look for Mr. Barnes after his fall from the train?” 

“Because I was in charge of our unit and I was expected to deliver Arnim Zola to Colonel Philips. I wanted to go down and look for Bucky and I argued that I should be able to. Philips threatened to court marshal me for insubordination so I had no choice. That’s why I sent Dum Dum and Morita,” Steve says. 

“What did they find?” 

“Nothing. We didn’t know the exact location of where the body should be so they searched the general area for a few hours and didn’t see anything.” 

“When you realized that Mr. Barnes was alive, why didn’t you immediately go after him?” 

“I got arrested,” Steve deadpans. 

“When did you go looking for him?” 

“After I got out of the hospital.”

“How long did it take you to find him?” 

“Two years,” Steve admits.

“And that was with help from Tony Stark?”

“Yes, Bucky was very good at staying under the radar so it took awhile.” 

“Did you ever think he might not want to be found?” 

“I did but I needed to find him because I wanted to let him know that I was still there for him, no matter what he did in the past. If he was willing to accept help I’d be there.” 

“Did he accept your help or did you force him?”

“I gave him a choice and he chose to come home with me.” 

“Was he allowed to leave Avengers Tower once he was living there?”

“He wasn’t but it was for his own safety. We knew that Hydra was still out there looking for him and it could be dangerous if he was recognized,” Steve explains. 

“So you were holding him prisoner?” 

Steve’s eyes narrow. “No, he was never a prisoner and if he’d decided to leave I wouldn’t have stopped him. He agreed to stay in the tower and limit going out until after the press conference.” 

The prosecutor’s looking annoyed again and she changes her line of questioning once more. “When you fought Mr. Barnes on the helicarrier, he shot and beat you, correct?” 

“That’s right,” Steve says.

“Did you feel that Mr. Barnes was dangerous at that moment?” 

“I did but I also still believed that the Bucky I knew and loved was in there somewhere. I wasn’t going to give up without trying to remind him of who he was.” 

“How many times did Mr. Barnes shoot you?” 

“Two, but neither of them were fatal.” Steve’s frowning at her now and there’s a look in his eyes that Bucky knows is indicative of beginning to lose his temper. He stares at Steve, silently pleading for him to keep it together.

“Were you prepared for the possibility that you might have to kill him?” 

“I was but I also knew it was going to be a last resort.”

“If he was dangerous, why did you decide it was a ‘last resort’?” 

“Would you want to kill someone you love or would you want to do everything possible to save them?” Steve snaps and there’s fire in his eyes.

The prosecutor’s now looking smug and she keeps pushing, trying to goad Steve to the point of saying something that will make him look bad in front of the court. “Did you discuss this with the members of your team who were assisting you?” 

“No, because I didn’t know Bucky was going to be on the helicarrier until I got there.” 

“Why did you leave Agent Romanoff to testify in front of the Senate without assistance from you?”

“I couldn’t do it myself because I was in the hospital,” Steve says through gritted teeth.

“But you didn’t give a statement or testify after the fact?”

“No! I don’t feel I owe anyone an answer regarding that, not when certain government officials were on board with a project to kill thousands of innocent people!” 

“So you felt that Project Insight was unwarranted?” 

“Objection! Council is badgering the witness!” Justin shouts. 

“Sustained,” Judge Asada barks. 

If looks could kill Steve would probably be a steaming pile of ash by now with the way the prosecutor’s looking at him. “Do you think Mr. Barnes shows adequate remorse for what he’s done?” 

“I don’t know what you’d call ‘adequate’ but he’s definitely been remorseful, to the point where he takes responsibility for things he had no control over.” Bucky drops his gaze to his knees, unable to look Steve in the eye after that statement. He knows that Steve means well but he’ll never be able to stop the feelings of guilt and shame that threaten to overwhelm him at times.

“Has Mr. Barnes decided on any sort of recompense for his victims?”

“How do you make up for taking someone’s life?” Steve challenges. “Bucky wants to find a way though and I’m sure if there is one he’ll do it.”

“Why hasn’t Mr. Barnes given a public apology?” 

Bucky swallows hard. She has a point. Why hasn’t he ever given a public apology? The press conference was one thing but actually giving a sincere and heartfelt speech to the families of his victims might have been a good place to start. Steve doesn’t back down though. “We followed the advice of our media team. They wanted us to do the press conference and give some interviews so that’s what we did.” 

“Did Mr. Barnes ever express to them that he wanted to make a public apology?”

“During the press conference and the interviews he said that he’s sorry for the things Hydra made him do and that he wishes he could take it all back.” Steve’s voice has risen a little now and Bucky gives a tiny shake of his head. He knows that Steve’s temper can be a bit ridiculous at times, especially when he’s protecting someone he loves, but it won’t do for him to blow up at the prosecutor in front of everyone.

“Why haven’t you given a public apology, Captain Rogers?”

“What for?” Steve objects. 

“How about for destroying an organization that was sworn to protect humanity, causing millions of dollars worth of damage, and refusing to take down a man who was a threat to everyone he came across?” the prosecutor goads. 

Steve gives her a dirty look. “SHIELD was compromised. Hydra had grown inside of them for years and was using their reputation to manipulate the course of human history. The millions of dollars in damage were justified given that the money was being used to fund the actions of a terrorist organization and, as we’ve established before, Bucky is not dangerous.” 

“Do you consider yourself to be an employee of said terrorist organization then?” 

“No, because I had no idea of who I was working for. I thought I was doing some good in the world by joining SHIELD and fighting their battles. As soon as I found out it wasn’t true I wanted no part of SHIELD or anyone associated with them I wasn’t sure I could trust.” 

“But you felt you could trust Mr. Barnes?” 

“I can always trust Bucky. I know what sort of a person he is and that hasn’t changed. I just had to get beneath Hydra’s programming and rescue him,” Steve insists. 

“Are you concerned that Mr. Barnes’s programming will reactivate at any point and turn him back into a killer?” 

“No, Tony was able to figure out a way to remove the trigger words with the help of Bucky’s neurologist and he’s completely free of them.” Bucky hopes to God the prosecutor can’t tell that this is a lie. If she suspects for any reason that Steve isn’t truthful she’ll start circling like a shark in bloody waters and then the story of the tesseract will have to come out. 

The prosecutor doesn’t seem dwell on the answer though and moves on again. “Have you tested this theory?” 

“We didn’t but the idiots Hydra sent to recapture Bucky certainly tried. The trigger words didn’t have any affect and he was fine.”

“Are you aware of how many people Mr. Barnes has killed?” 

“After that parade of witnesses you brought in I’m pretty sure I do,” Steve snaps.

“And that doesn’t affect your willingness to have a relationship with him?” 

“No, and it never will. Bucky wasn’t himself! He was a prisoner! Hydra tortured and brainwashed him and they forced him to do those things and I don’t know why anyone else doesn’t get that!” Bucky chews on his lower lip. This isn’t going to be good if the prosecutor keeps pushing. He’s not normally a praying man but he finds himself silently asking God to help Steve pull back from the edge from his anger. 

“Captain Rogers, would you say that you suffer from anger issues?”

“No, I don’t,” Steve says tersely.

“Have you ever been to anger management therapy?” 

“Objection! Council is badgering the witness!” Justin shouts. 

“Sustained,” Judge Asada says. 

“No further questions.” The prosecutor struts back to her seat. 

Bucky swallows hard as he watches Steve leave the witness stand. It’s now his turn.


	53. Chapter 53

Bucky takes the stand, heart hammering in his chest and the palm of his flesh hand is sweaty. He wishes he could run. He wishes he could be anywhere but where he’s sitting right now. The only thing that keeps him grounded is thinking about Steve and the possibility of being allowed to go home with him. Justin gives Bucky a small smile and begins with his questioning. 

“Please state your name for the court.” 

“James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky.” 

“You were born and raised in Brooklyn, correct?”

“That’s correct.” Bucky’s voice sounds weak and nervous to his own ears. 

“Can you please describe your early life?”

Bucky chews on his lower lip a moment and twists his flesh hand in the fabric of his orange jumpsuit. “It was pretty, well, normal. I had ma and dad and three younger sisters. The apartment we lived in was small and pretty crowded but we were happy. I went to a school that was within walking distance and I’d usually meet Steve in the mornings so we could walk there together.” 

“You’re referring to Captain Rogers?” 

“Yes.” Bucky’s feeling a little more confident now and his voice comes out clearer. It’s easy to talk about things that aren’t related to Hydra or the destruction he caused as the Winter Soldier.

“What was the highest grade you attended?” 

“The ninth. I dropped out after that to get a job and help my family.”

“Were there financial issues at home?” Justin asks. 

“My dad lost his job and was having trouble finding a new one. It was the middle of the depression and everyone was having a tough go of it so the factory he worked for closed down.”

“Where did you obtain work?” 

“I had a few jobs. Mostly wherever was hiring that would take me. I did a lot of manual labour in places like factories and at the docks. None of it paid very well but it was at least something.” 

“When did you and Steve move in together?” 

Bucky shrugs. “Probably late teens, early twenties. It was right after Steve’s ma died.” 

“Why did you move in with him instead of staying with your family?” 

“My dad had found a better job and my family was able to pay the bills again. Steve didn’t have anyone to look after him when his ma died and being sick so often meant that he couldn’t work enough. He ended up losing a lot of jobs.” 

“How often was Captain Rogers sick?” 

“A lot,” Bucky sighs. “It was always something, from just a bad cold to having something worse like pneumonia or scarlet fever. There were a few times I honestly thought he was going to die.”

“So you tended to Captain Rogers when he was ill?” 

“I did.” 

“Do you remember what year you enlisted?” 

“Nineteen forty-two.” 

“And you enlisted for financial reasons?” 

“That was the main reason but I also wanted to serve my country. The recruiters made it sound like the opportunity of a lifetime and I fell for it.” 

“Are you resentful of that?” Justin questions. 

Bucky shakes his head. “I can’t be. I was a young dumb kid who’d never left Brooklyn and the pay was good. I also wanted to be able to take care of Steve. I’ll never be angry at myself for that because it brought me here, even though the journey was hell.”

“What unit were you assigned to?”

“The hundred and seventh,” Bucky replies. 

“Can you describe for the court how you were captured?” 

Bucky twists the fabric of his prison jumpsuit around in his fingers again, trying to keep the nervousness at bay. He’d give anything not to have to talk about Azzano, the turning point where his life changed forever. “We got pinned down in a fire fight just outside of Malbacco. We were pretty badly outnumbered by Red Skull’s goons and they captured us, forced us to walk all the way to this factory in Azzano where they used us as slave labour.”

“When did you find out about Dr. Arnim Zola?” Justin says. 

“Shortly after we got there and our group was split up. Some of us were forced to work building the Valkyrie for Red Skull. The rest got taken somewhere by Zola and we never saw them again.” 

“Did any of the workers ever get taken?” 

Bucky nods. “They did, sometimes. Zola would come down to the factory and watch us work, then he’d choose someone and the guards would take them away.” 

“Did you hear anything about what happened to them?”

“There were a lot of crazy rumours going around but I think underneath we all knew that they weren’t coming back because they were dead.” 

“When did you get chosen?” 

“When…” Bucky falters, scrunching up his features as he thinks hard. Finally he settles on, “It’s hard to say. I think it might have been a few months in.” 

“What happened when they took you?” 

“Zola came down to the factory floor one day and he pointed at me. I tried to fight the guards but I was exhausted from being forced to work so much and one of them clubbed me on the head. Next thing I knew I was in a lab strapped to a table.” 

“Did he perform any experiments on you?” 

Bucky nods again and it feels like his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. “Yes.”

“What sort of things did he do to you?” 

“He kept giving me some sort of stuff by IV. Most of them didn’t do anything but there was one that was awful. It felt like it was burning through my veins and I was in so much pain that I screamed for hours. I don’t know what it was but Zola watched the whole thing and he seemed way too happy about it.”

“What did he do afterwards?” 

Bucky frowns, remembering again how he thought he was going to die but had held on desperately, repeating his service number over and over again just to remind himself that he was still human and still very much alive. “I don’t really know. I was delirious after he left and I don’t know how much time passed. All I know was that he left me strapped to that table until I heard explosions shaking the whole bunker and then Steve was there, helping me escape.”

“You ran into Red Skull along the way, correct?” 

“We did. Steve fought him but he had an escape plan and ended up getting away. After that we just concentrated on getting ourselves out. Everything was on fire.”

Justin shuffles a little closer to the stand and asks, “Is it true that after you returned to base camp you had the opportunity to return home?” 

“It’s true,” Bucky confirms, “but I didn’t take it.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Because Steve would’ve never gone home. He was staying so I sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere. He tends to do stupid stuff without thinking about watching his own back so he needs someone to do it for him.” In the gallery someone tries to mask laughter with a cough. 

“Is that why you agreed to help ambush the train?” Justin asks. 

“That was part of it. The other part was that I wanted to get back at Arnim Zola for what he put me through. I guess that part didn’t work out,” Bucky says bitterly. 

“Can you describe the fall from the train?” 

Bucky swallows hard, takes a deep breath, thinks _I can do this._ “I got blasted out of the side of the train and I was just trying to hold on to a railing until Steve could get to me. Then it gave way and I fell. I don’t remember much but it was a long way down. I think I lost consciousness for a bit but when I came to I just remember being cold, wet, and in a lot of pain. I didn’t really realize it at the time but looking back I know that I couldn’t feel my arm. I vaguely remember some people finding me but I blacked out again until I found myself back in Zola’s lab.” 

“Your honour, I’d like to introduce exhibit B now, which is a dictation from the Hydra files given by Dr. Arnim Zola. Mr. Barnes, could you please read this for the court?”

Bucky reluctantly accepts the sheaf of papers Justin hands him and clears his throat. His voice comes out shaky as he reads out, “Dictation by Doctor Arnim Zola. Subject: Barnes, James Buchanan. Height: 1.83 meters. Weight: 161.96 pounds. Subject was retrieved from the Danube River by Soviet forces and delivered to Hydra operatives. Body was mostly intact save for the left arm, which is missing above the elbow. Files indicate that subject was a prisoner with the 107th regiment at the Azzano facility where he underwent procedure A3.824, which likely contributed to his survival. Subject is considered an ideal candidate for the Winter Soldier program once blueprints for the arm replacement are completed.”

“When did they attach the arm?” Justin asks. 

“I really don’t know. I lost track of time while I was waiting for them to do it.” Bucky remembers how days, weeks, and months had all bled into each other, become a hellish never-ending torture. 

“Was it painful?” 

Bucky fidgets with fabric on his prison jumpsuit again, twisting it between his index finger and thumb. “It was the worst pain I’ve every felt in my life,” he says truthfully. 

“Were you given any anesthetic for it?” Justin asks. 

“No.” 

“Did you remain conscious for the whole procedure?” 

“No,” Bucky says softly. “I was conscious long enough for them to saw off what was left of the stump but after that I blacked out. I don’t know how long it was but when I woke up I had a new arm and I was in a lot of pain but they wouldn’t give me anything for it.” 

“Your honour, I would like to submit exhibit C for the court,” Justin says, pulling another page from the sheaf of papers at his desk. “This is another excerpt from the Hydra files we were able to recover. Mr. Barnes, could you please read that for the court?” 

It’s yet more of Zola’s notes. Bucky clears his throat and then quickly reads out, “Dictation by Dr. Arnim Zola. Subject: the Winter Soldier. Attachment of the prosthesis was successful. The clavicle and scapula were removed and replaced with vibranium copies to provide support for the anchor bolts, along with a reinforcement of the remains of the supraspinitis, infraspinitus, and teres major. The musculocutaneous nerve, as well as the remaining branches of the axillary, radial, and median nerves were re-routed and attached to the pectoralis major. The subject tolerated the procedure well and upon waking was able to move the arm with verbal prompting. Subject rates his pain level at a ten out of ten but appears to be adapting. It is my hope that in the future he will be able to perform under extreme duress.” 

Justin takes the sheet back from Bucky and slots it back into place among his other papers. “Were you forced to perform under duress?” 

“Define perform,” Bucky mutters. 

“Were you forced to endure torture?” 

“Yes.” 

“Were you forced to do things you wouldn’t normally have done under threat of torture?”

“Yes.”

“What sort of things did they make you do?” 

Bucky sucks in a shaky breath. “They…they wanted me to kill. They’d bring in people they were keeping hostage and they’d order me to kill them. When I refused they’d drag me back to my cell and torture me some more. They were trying to break me but I kept fighting them.” 

“Did you kill anyone on their orders during that time?” 

“No, I wouldn’t do it. I wasn’t going to kill innocent people, even if it meant that I had to suffer. I begged them to kill me over and over but they wouldn’t.” Bucky feels the start of tears threatening behind his eyes so he steadies his breathing, inhaling and exhaling in long flat strokes, just like he used to do when Steve was having an asthma attack and Bucky would try to get him to imitate his breathing. 

“What sort of tortures were you forced to submit to?”

“T-they…” Bucky wavers. It feels like his throat his closing up and he’s barely able to choke out the words. “They made me stay in the cell without clothes. It was freezing and…sometimes…sometimes the guards would pour freezing water on me so I’d be even colder. They didn’t let me have food or water. I had to piss in the corner of my cell…They…they l-locked me in the box.” His voice is nearing a whisper now and he can’t help but let out a choked sob. Tears burn behind his eyes, finally making their appearance and dribbling down his cheeks. 

Justin hands Bucky a tissue from the pocket of his suit and says delicately, “I know this is very difficult for you but can you please describe the box?” 

Bucky wipes at his eyes. “Zola had some his goons make a wooden box that wasn’t tall enough for me stand up in or fully sit down. It had a lock on the outside and…the…the inside had restraints so I wasn’t able to move much. I had to kneel or crouch all the time and I…” he pauses, wiping furiously at his eyes again and trying to get his breathing under control as his chest heaves. “I c-c-couldn’t sleep. They l-left me in there f-for d-days and…I started hallucinating.” 

“What kind of hallucinations did you have?” 

Bucky’s barely able to force the words out. He hopes to God and whatever else is holy that Steve isn’t somewhere where he can hear the court proceedings right now. “I saw Steve. I w-wanted h-him to help m-me but I…I didn’t understand he wasn’t r-real and I started screaming.” 

“How did the guards react to that?” 

“They beat me.” 

“How many beatings did you suffer while in captivity?” 

“I dunno, a lot.” Bucky twists the fabric of his prison jumpsuit round and round, releasing it, and then twisting again with his thumb and index finger.

“Was there anything else they did to you?”

It takes Bucky a few shaky inhales and exhales before he can properly form the words. “Zola kept taking me back to his lab and injecting me with things. I don’t know what any of it was but some of it made me really sick for a few days. Sometimes I’d be throwing up and they’d drag me out of my cell and try to force me to do physical activity for a really long time. They’d make me run laps around the outside of Zola’s lab and if I stopped to throw up they’d…they’d beat me…it hurt so much and I wanted to die.” 

“Did you try to fight them?” 

“When I felt strong enough I tried. I was always outnumbered though.” Bucky swipes at his eyes again.

“Did you ever try to escape?”

“Once. Zola was stupid enough to leave me alone with one guard and no restraints for awhile. He’d actually fed me that morning so I was feeling a little stronger. I was able to knock out the guard and get through the door. I made it almost to the end of the hall before I met Zola coming back with two more guards. That was the day they pulled out all of my fingernails.” 

There’s a soft “oof” noise from someone in the courtroom but Bucky doesn’t check to see who it was. Another tear cascades down his cheek and he brushes it away quickly.

“Did they do anything else to you?” Justin asks.

“They...they…” Bucky hiccups loudly. “They…u-used some …th-thing Zola came up with that shocked me with electricity. S-sometimes they’d…sometimes they’d burn me. The guards smoked and they’d put their cigarettes out on my skin. Zola w-would make me stand in the corner of the room with my arms out and if I m-moved or got tired and wanted to put my arms down he’d…he’d have the guards beat me. They beat me every day, whether Zola was pleased with me or not.” 

“When did the memory wipes start happening?” 

“About a year in,” Bucky sobs. 

“Can you describe that?” Justin asks. His tone is laced with sympathy. 

Bucky takes a few more shaky breaths, in and out, in and out, until he can feel the lump in his throat easing a little. “I wouldn’t kill, no matter what they did to me, and Zola got fed up with that. He spent months working on the memory machine and testing it out on me.”

“Did you lose your memories right away?” 

“Not all of them, no. The machine wasn’t good enough at first so I’d only lose a few minutes or hours. Zola would show up at my cell and start asking me questions about how much I was able to remember and then he’d go back and fix the machine. I started losing entire days or even weeks at a time but he wasn’t happy with that so he kept working on it. When I started to lose years he said he was on the right track. Eventually he was able to wipe out everything. I couldn’t even remember my own name.” 

“How did they implant the trigger words?” 

“I don’t know,” Bucky says in a voice nearing a hoarse whisper. “Zola had the guards take me out of my cell one day and he had them strap me to a table. He gave me some sort of drugs. I was in and out of consciousness for days and when I was awake he was he’d play this weird recording of himself talking but I couldn’t really make sense of it. Occasionally he’d have the guards put me back in the chair so he could wipe my memory again. I think it kept happening for a really long time, maybe weeks or months, I don’t know, just that when it was over anyone could say those words to me and I’d be at their mercy.” 

“When did they start sending you out to kill people?”

“Maybe a year later. They trained me first.” 

“Was that combat training?”

“Yeah, they had Hydra’s top operatives come in and spend time training me to fight. Turns out I was good at it so the men in charge gave Zola a nice gold watch. He bragged about it for days,” Bucky snorts. 

“When did you commit your first kill?” 

Bucky dabs at his eyes again with the tissue and chews on his lower lip. “The guards brought in a man Hydra was keeping captive. I don’t know who he was or why they wanted him dead but my commander ordered me to kill him. I…I…snapped his neck and god, I felt no remorse for it because they wiped me just before they brought him in.” Bucky shudders at the memory. 

“Did they send you out to kill after that?”

“Shortly after. They had me kill several more people in-house first and when they were happy with me the strike team started taking me on missions.” 

“How frequently were your memories erased during that time?”

“Before and after every mission,” Bucky replies. 

“Were the memory wipes painful?”

“It hurt…it hurt so bad, like my…like my head was…b-being split o-open,” Bucky manages to gasp out before he feels tears starting to well in his eyes again. Out in the gallery he can see Pepper wiping her own eyes with a tissue she’s pulled from her purse. Bucky wipes roughly at his face again. 

“How were you treated during missions?” Just asks. 

Bucky takes another few shaky breaths, chest heaving as he tries to get himself under control again. “I was nothing but a weapon to them.” 

“So you weren’t treated like a team member?” 

“No. I was either given orders and expected to carry them out or they treated me like I didn’t exist until I did something one of the team members didn’t like. Then they’d punish me.” 

“What sort of things were you punished for?” Justin asks.

Bucky would give anything not to have to answer any more questions but he knows he has to power through if he ever wants to see the outside world again. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and takes a breath. “I wasn’t allowed to sleep on missions. It didn’t matter how long the mission lasted; we stayed until the job was done and I had to be awake the entire time. If the team was sleeping I’d guard them. I’d get beaten severely if they found me dozing off.

I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone either unless I was asked a direct question. Speaking out of turn meant a beating. If the team was sitting down to eat I had to either be guarding them or kneeling in the corner and I could only eat what the commander of the team allowed me to have. Sneaking food was punishable by a beating from the entire team. Disobeying orders in battle was the worst one. I’d be taken back to one of Hydra’s bases and water boarded before they put me in cryo again.”

“Your honour, I would now like to submit exhibit D,” Justin says, pulling another piece of paper from his files. He hands it to Bucky. “Can you please read this out loud?”

Bucky takes a moment to clear his throat and then begins. “Dictation by Dr. Arnim Zola. Subject: Winter Soldier. Memory modification and combat training are now complete. The Soldier was dispatched at oh-three-hundred this morning to aid the strike team in a mission, with orders to sanction and extract. He completed the mission satisfactorily, according to the mission commander, and has now been returned to base for maintenance. Post-mission examination reveals no major malfunctions. After memory modification the Soldier was returned to the cryo chamber.” 

“Do you remember that mission?” 

“I do,” Bucky says quietly. 

“Did you kill anyone?”

“I…I murdered a man and his wife. I don’t know who they were but the mission commander ordered me to kill them.” 

“Were you ever given any information on your targets?”

“Very little,” Bucky confesses. “I was told the bare minimum that I needed to know and then I was sent out to kill. Afterwards they’d wipe my memory and I wouldn’t know what happened.” 

“And how long did this continue for?” 

“Seventy years,” Bucky says flatly. 

“When did you first see Steve again?” 

“On the bridge, just before he was captured. He said my name and I didn’t know who he was.” 

“Did any memories resurface afterwards?”

Bucky nods. “I kept talking out of turn, saying that I knew the man on the bridge. Alexander Pierce slapped me because of it. He had the technicians wipe me again.”

“When did you start to break through the programming?”

“On the helicarrier.” 

“Was there a particular moment that triggered it?” 

“Steve said something that we used to say when we were younger.”

“What did he say?” 

“I’m with you till the end of the line. It was our way of saying we’d be together forever,” Bucky says. 

“Is that why you rescued Captain Rogers from the Potomac?”

“I think so. Something inside of me always knew Steve. It was like they were able to erase everything else but they could never quite get rid of him.” 

“What do you think it is about Steve that prevents him from being erased?” 

“Love,” Bucky says simply and he feels a stray tear roll down his cheek. 

“No further questions your honour.”


	54. Chapter 54

The prosecutor is going to cross-examine Bucky. He wishes he could avoid it somehow since he’s feeling exhausted after Justin’s questioning and wants nothing more than for all this to be over. His neck and back are aching terribly due to his prosthesis pulling on them, his eyes are raw and gritty from crying, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to find the emotional strength to continue. The brief recess the judge ordered just wasn’t enough. Bucky watches warily as the prosecutor steps forward. 

“Mr. Barnes, you were given a serum similar to Captain Rogers’, correct?” 

“I don’t know,” Bucky says wearily. 

“Was it not in the Hydra files you were given?” 

“No, that information was lost.” 

“You’ve been seen by Tony Stark’s medical team, right?” 

“I have.” 

“Did they do any testing in regards to the serum?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together and his mouth twists up as he tries to remember. “They took some blood and stuff. I don’t know exactly what they did because they kept me in a coma for several days but Dr. Cho said they worked off the assumption that I was similar to Steve.” 

“Does that serum come with enhanced strength?” 

“It does,” Bucky answers, wondering what she’s getting at. 

“Why did you not take advantage of that and escape when you were originally being held prisoner?” 

There it is. Bucky grits his teeth and tries to squash down the annoyance that he feels rising within him. “I was extremely outnumbered and I only had one arm, plus they didn’t feed me very often. I was pretty weak.” He keeps his tone as calm as he can muster. 

The prosecutor looks unconvinced.“Once the prosthesis was attached, did you try?” 

“Just once. It lost me all of my fingernails.” Bucky gives her a wry smile. 

“And you didn’t try again?” 

“No, I didn’t. I switched to begging them to kill me instead because I thought there was no way I’d ever be able to escape.” 

“Mr. Barnes are you aware of the treason laws that exist in several of the countries you committed crimes in?” 

“I know they exist but I wouldn’t be able to quote them word for word,” Bucky answers flippantly. 

The prosecutor has a malicious looking smirk on her face. “Are you aware that in America, Britain, and Israel giving aid to your enemies is punishable by death?”

“Objection! Council is badgering the witness!” Justin snaps. 

“Overruled. Answer the question, Mr. Barnes.”

“No idea.” 

“Do you take responsibility for the murders you committed while working for Hydra?” The prosecutor is looking smug now at the trap she’s attempted to lay but Bucky isn’t going to bite. 

“I wasn’t working for Hydra and I never would. The only way they could get me to do their bidding was to erase my entire personality,” he snaps. 

“But do you take responsibility for the murders?” the prosecutor pressures. 

“Yes and no.” 

“Can you elaborate on that?” 

Bucky can feel anger starting to rise inside of him and he can’t help exploding with,“I didn’t kill anyone willingly and I never would have for Hydra! I would rather have died first but they wouldn’t execute me, no matter how much I begged. I had everything that made me Bucky Barnes stripped away so they could use me as a weapon! Do I feel remorse for the things I was made to do? Absolutely. I would give anything to give those people back what they lost and that’ll haunt me until I die but the thing is I lost too! That’s what Hydra does. They tear apart everything you’ve ever loved and make you watch.” 

In the gallery Bucky can hear someone make a noise of discomfort. The prosecutor just looks stone-faced. “You were able to break through the programming at one point, correct?” 

“I did on the helicarrier.”

“If you were able to do it then, why couldn’t you have done it earlier?” 

“Because it took just the right thing to help me break through and that thing was Steve telling me ‘I’m with you till the end of the line’. Nothing else gave me that,” Bucky points out. 

Then the prosecutor asks a question that makes Bucky angrier than anything she’s said during the rest of the trial. “If you were so opposed to the things Hydra was forcing you to do, why didn’t you commit suicide?” 

There’s a gasp from the gallery and someone swears under their breath. “You think I didn’t try?” Bucky growls. “You think I never tried to get a hold of a gun or a sharp object or a rope or **anything** I could use to kill myself? I tried but they’d always catch me and put a stop to it. When they implanted the trigger words they put in a code that kept me from using suicide to escape. When I was living in Bucharest I wanted to do it but the programming held. After that Steve took me home with him and I found that I didn’t really want to anymore.” 

“Do you ever think that the best way to repay the families of your victims would be to pay with your life?”

“Objection! Council is badgering the witness!” Justin shouts. 

“Sustained,” Judge Asada says. 

“What do you think would be an adequate way to repay the families of your victims?” 

“I don’t know. If there was something I would have done it by now.” 

“Why did you wait so long to go public with the fact that you were still alive?” 

“I did what I was advised to do. Our team was concerned about safety,” Bucky says blandly. 

“Your safety?” the prosecutor retorts. 

“The safety of everyone involved. This wasn’t just about me. It involved Tony, Pepper, Steve, and a lot of Tony’s staff.” 

“Is it true that you returned to Hydra while living in Tony Stark’s building?” 

“I didn’t do it voluntarily. I was kidnapped,” Bucky snarls. 

“Didn’t you go with them willingly?” 

“Tony had bad intel and we thought I was being arrested. It turned out that they were Hydra in disguise and they were trying to turn me into the Soldier again.” 

“Did you try to escape while in their captivity?” 

“I couldn’t. The security was too tight and I was outnumbered. They kept trying to unsuccessfully wipe my memory and I kept waking up in my cell with no idea how I got there. I got weaker over time too; at least that’s what I was told. I can’t remember very much.” 

“Did you ask them to kill you then?” 

Bucky shakes his head. “No, I knew Steve would come for me.” 

“So your self-harm behaviours while incarcerated were not suicidal gestures?” 

“No,” Bucky says honestly. “I was having suicidal thoughts but my intent was only to hurt myself, not commit suicide.”

“Is it also true that you were involved in an incident on Mr. Stark’s roof?” 

“I was,” Bucky says carefully because they’re veering too close to bringing up Asgard again. 

“Did you kill anyone during that time?”

“I did but it was in self-defense.” 

“Were you fully in control of those actions?” 

Bucky hesitates. He knows that the Soldier resurfaced when Steve got shot in the neck, causing a burst of anger that he used to slash through everything in his path. “I was acting out of anger but I knew what I was doing,” he finally settles for.

“How many men did you kill?” 

“I don’t know,” Bucky says truthfully. 

“So they weren’t able to use the trigger words to control you?” the prosecutor asks. She smirks at him nastily. Bucky wonders again if she knows something but he plays it cool.

“No.” 

“And how did you get rid of those trigger words again?” 

Bucky relies on the carefully rehearsed answer that Justin told him to use and hopes that he comes across naturally. He’s never been much of an actor. “Tony and my doctors took care of it. There were a lot of scans of my brain and a lot of different tests. There’s a bunch of scientific stuff I don’t understand that happened but in the end the trigger words didn’t work anymore.” 

“And you expect people to believe that you’re no longer dangerous?” the prosecutor snaps. 

“Yeah, I do. No one is allowed to control me anymore and I would never hurt an innocent person willingly.” 

“So if I read out the trigger words in open court there would be no repercussions?” 

“None,” Bucky says more confidently than he feels. It’s hard to erase seventy years worth of fear and he’s still afraid of the words, even though they have no effect on him. 

The prosecutor pulls a sheet of paper out from a folder on her table and shows it to the judge. “Your honour, I would like to submit exhibit B. It’s a list of the words used to control Mr. Barnes.” She hands the paper to Bucky, who takes it gingerly as if it might burn him. “Would you read those out loud?” 

“Objection! Badgering the witness!” Justin shouts. 

“Overruled. Read the words, Mr. Barnes.” Judge Asada says.

With much trepidation Bucky begins in a shaking voice, “L-longing…r-rusted…furnace…daybreak…seventeen…b-benign…n-nine…homecoming…one…freight car.” When he finished he’s breathing like he’s run several miles and his hand is trembling so badly he can barely hold the paper. Bucky looks up at the prosecutor and feels livid when he sees that the expression on her face is one of satisfaction as she snatches the list back.

“Mr. Barnes, do you still feel those words have power over you?” 

“In a way they do. They can’t be used to control me anymore but I’m still afraid of them,” Bucky admits. 

The prosecutor switches subjects now and Bucky is grateful for it. He can’t take anymore of being forced to testify about the trigger words. “Do you have any plans to join the Avengers?” 

“I don’t know. Tony’s offered me a spot on the team but I don’t know if I’d ever want to take it. What I want most right now is peace and quiet; no violence, no world ending catastrophes to solve, no one prying into my relationship with Steve. I just want to be allowed to try for a normal life. Well, as normal as I can get while living in the tower and dating Captain America.” 

“If you did join do you think you would be triggered by the violence of battle?” 

“No,” Bucky says quickly. “It would be different, more like back during the war when I was part of the Howling Commandos. It wouldn’t be anything like Hydra.” 

“Do you agree with the diagnosis your psychologist has given you of PTSD?”

Bucky shrugs his flesh shoulder. “She’s the expert. If she says I have it then I probably do.” 

The prosecutor’s eyes narrow. “Do you think it would be wise for Captain Rogers and Tony Stark to allow someone in that frame of mind onto the team?”

Bucky refuses to rise to the bait. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you think you’d be able to complete a mission without experiencing symptoms of your PTSD?”

“I don’t know.”

“So you don’t feel you’d be a hindrance to the team?” 

“I don’t know. I know I have skills they can use but I can’t say for sure how I’d react until I started training with the team and going on missions.” 

“Since you came to live with Captain Rogers, have you physically harmed him?”

“No.” 

“Have you destroyed any of his possessions?” 

“I broke two lamps when I first started staying there. I was having really bad nightmares,” Bucky confesses, omitting the story about how the tablet came to be embedded in the living room wall. 

“If you were to sleep on a mission do you think your nightmares would compromise it?” 

“Nobody gets any sleep on a mission. It usually waits until the work is done.” 

“If you were to sleep somewhere near your teammates at any time, do you think you would be a danger to them?” 

“No. I break things when I have nightmares because I thrash around sometimes. It doesn’t always happen but I could prepare for it by making sure everything and everyone was out of the way before sleeping.” 

“What about sleeping during travelling?” 

“If it was going to be an issue then I wouldn’t sleep. I’m able to stay up a lot longer than the average person,” Bucky snaps. He takes a few deep breaths, in and out, in and out to calm himself. The anxiety from testifying and the pain from his neck and back are beginning to wear on his ability to keep his temper in check and he hopes he can hold out until the cross-examination is over. 

“Do you feel that your prosthesis is a dangerous weapon?” the prosecutor asks and Bucky groans inwardly. 

“No. It’s an arm and it functions the same as the other one. There’s nothing special about it.” 

“Are you able to feel pain in that arm?” 

“No, it’s mostly just pressure.” 

“How many pounds are you able to lift with it?” 

“I don’t know the exact number. I’ve never tested that,” Bucky states. 

“Have you ever used the arm as a weapon?”

“I’ve hit people with it but that’s nothing I couldn’t do with the other one.” 

“Have you ever taken advantage of your inability to feel pain in that limb?” 

“Yeah. I’ve punched through stuff; wood, metal, bricks,” Bucky concedes. 

“Have you ever used the arm to beat someone to death?” 

“No. I was trained to be more stealthy than that. Most of Hydra’s missions required me to use my sniper skills or to make it look like an accident or the work of another organization.” 

“Did you beat Captain Rogers with it?” 

“I did.” Bucky wishes they didn’t have to talk about the fight on the helicarrier because he still carries some guilt about it. He steels himself for the next round of questions. 

“Was that ordered by Hydra?” 

“Yes. They wanted me to kill him but I started to break through the programming and I couldn’t do it.”

“But you still beat him badly enough that he ended up in the hospital?” 

“Yes,” Bucky says softly. 

The prosecutor’s scrutinizing him a way that makes him feel like a little kid in trouble with his ma. She moves a little closer to the witness stand, probably in an attempt at intimidation, and asks, “You also shot Captain Rogers, correct?” 

“Yes.”

“Why did you leave him on the riverbank after the fight?”

“I…” Bucky falters. “I was afraid. I knew Steve’s friends would come looking for him and I didn’t want anyone to find me.” 

“Why did you flee to Bucharest after Project Insight was destroyed?” 

“I was confused and really afraid. I’d been controlled by Hydra for so long that suddenly not having handlers was terrifying for me. I didn’t know that I was supposed to sleep in a bed, or that I needed to bathe, or how to pick out my own clothes, or even how to eat solid food. That all had to come back to me or I had to watch other people and imitate them. The entire time I was looking over my shoulder for Hydra, thinking that if I didn’t keep moving whoever was left would catch up to me and I’d have to go back to them. Bucharest is just where Steve caught up with me.” 

“Why did you decide to return with Captain Rogers?”

“I was tired of running and Steve said he could protect me.”

“Why didn’t you turn to him to begin with?” 

“I didn’t know that I could trust him. I didn’t trust anyone for a really long time. All I knew is that for some reason Steve was important to me and that’s why I didn’t want to kill him,” Bucky explains. 

“Did you harm anyone while you were in Bucharest?”

“No, all I did was keep a low profile so Hydra couldn’t find me.” 

“How did you support yourself while you were living there?”

“I got some clothes at a donation center for the homeless and I stole some food,” Bucky discloses. 

“So you willingly admit that you stole?” the prosecutor demands. 

“Only enough to keep myself fed. I would have gotten a job if I could’ve but I didn’t have any identification and I couldn’t risk any sort of paper trail. A guy with a metal arm isn’t exactly subtle.” 

“There was nowhere you could have worked for cash in hand?” 

“The less people who saw me the better. It would’ve been easy for Hydra to find me if I was spending time in public spaces where there could be cameras they’d tap into.” 

“How did you afford your apartment?” 

“The building was abandoned but it still had electricity and running water. I was squatting there,” Bucky says.

“How long have you been living with Captain Rogers?” 

“Umm…” Bucky stalls, trying to add up the time in his head. Finally he realizes just how long it’s been, which comes as a total surprise to him. __Has it really been that long?__ he wonders. “About a year before I went to prison.” 

“When did you and Captain Rogers become romantically involved?”

“I’m not exactly sure but it was a few months in.” 

“Do you feel that this was a wise choice to make given your mental state?” the prosecutor asks and Bucky wishes he could wipe that smug look off her face. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? We’ve been in love since we were just kids and that never changed, even with all of the crap that we’ve both been through. When you’ve loved someone your entire life it only makes sense,” he argues. 

“When did you remember you had romantic feelings for Captain Rogers?” 

“Not long after I started living in the tower. It was one of the first things that came back to me while I was there.” 

“Did you ever feel that Captain Rogers took advantage of you at a vulnerable time in your recovery?” 

“What? No, absolutely not!” Bucky fumes. He grits his teeth, imagining throwing the prosecutor through the nearest window. 

There’s some angry murmuring out in the gallery so Judge Asada bangs his gavel and tells them to settle down. The prosecutor moves on to the next question, looking like a hungry wolf about to pounce on a wounded deer. “So your entire relationship has been consensual?”

“Of course it has,” Bucky spits out. 

“During your time with Hydra did you commit any sexual acts with anyone?” 

“What do you mean?” Bucky asks. He doesn’t like where this is going. 

“Did you have sexual relations with any of your teammates?”

Bucky wants to vomit but he manages to quell the bile rising in his throat long enough to answer the question. “They weren’t my teammates and I wasn’t raped by any of Hydra’s members if that’s what you’re asking. They viewed me as a weapon, nothing more.”

“Did you commit any acts of sexual violence while you were on missions?” the prosecutor gibes. 

“No, I murdered a lot of people but I never raped anyone.” Bucky’s mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton and the idea of being forced to rape while under Hydra’s control makes him again swallow back the urge to retch right then and there.

“Did you commit any acts of sexual violence after you escaped?” 

“No,” Bucky hisses. 

“Has your relationship with Captain Rogers been sexual?”

Bucky’s relieved when Justin leaps up from his chair and shouts, “Objection! Relevance!” 

“Sustained,” Judge Asada says.

“Mr. Barnes, do feel you are owed any sort of forgiveness from the families of your victims?” 

Bucky shakes his head. “No, I’m not owed anything from them. If they can’t forgive me I’ll understand.” 

“Are you aware that some of them are calling for your execution?”

“No.” 

“Do you feel that you deserve your freedom?” 

“I don’t feel that I deserve anything. What I want is for people to understand what Hydra is and what they do to people. I’m one of the few bits of living proof because they’ve murdered just about everyone else and I intend to use that to fight them, no matter what happens to me,” Bucky says wearily.

“Does that mean you will accept your punishment if convicted?” the prosecutor asks and she’s got that nasty smirk back on her face. 

Bucky sighs and twists the fabric of his prison jumpsuit around in his fingers again. “It does. The court will decide what happens to me.”

“Do you realize that it would be a matter of national security if your friends attempted to help you avoid your sentence in any way?” 

“I’m aware of that. Like I said, what happens isn’t up to me. I’m here to present my story and I hope that the judges will do whatever they think is right,” Bucky says humbly. 

The prosecutor looks annoyed again but she seems to decide to wrap up the questioning. “No further questions, your honour.” 

Bucky breaths a sigh of relief but he knows it isn’t over yet. “Redirect, your honour,” Justin says and he heads up to the witness stand. 

“Mr. Barnes, what will you do if you win your freedom?” 

“Spend time with Steve.” 

“And what do you hope happens to Hydra?” 

“I don’t hope anything happens to them because I know what’s going to happen. The Avengers are going to hunt them down, whether I’m invited or not, and they’re going to destroy every last remaining bit of Hydra. They’re a plague on the world as far as I’m concerned,” Bucky scoffs. 

“Will you remain at the tower?”

“I plan to, unless Steve and I ever decide to move out for some reason.” 

“What sort of a life do you hope to build for yourself?” Justin asks. 

“I want a life where I don’t have to look over my shoulder at every turn for Hydra. I want to make my own decisions without anyone controlling me. I want to live with Steve and I want us to be as normal as possible without anyone prying into our business or the fear of something bad happening hanging over our heads. I just want the chance to be happy.” 

“No further questions, your honour.”

Bucky stands on shaky legs and lets himself be returned to his table by the bailiff. He sinks into his chair next to Justin and waits as Judge Asada adjourns court for the day. All that’s left now is the closing arguments.


	55. Chapter 55

On the last day of the trial the prosecutor is allowed to make her closing argument first. Bucky glowers at her as she struts out arrogantly onto the middle of the courtroom floor and begins. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, at the beginning of this trial I promised to bring you evidence that James Buchanan Barnes is a cold-blooded killer who was in league with Hydra. We now know that several people’s lives were irreversibly changed by his actions. The men and women you saw testifying before you in the last few days are only a fraction of people who have been touched by Mr. Barnes’ actions and they have all suffered; they have all lost someone who is very dear to them. 

James Barnes isn’t a war hero. He isn’t the man he presents himself as - the man who fought for his country, the man who was coerced into violent acts by a terrorist organization, or the humble man who simply wants to live a quiet life. Underneath all of that he still bears the training of Hydra. He still has the disposition of a killer. You have heard expert testimony that shows this to be the truth and you have seen what effect that training has had on the lives of others. Is this someone we want walking around in society today? No. If Mr. Barnes is so keen to make amends for the carnage he’s caused he should accept that he has no place walking the streets as a free man. 

I would like to ask the court to remember that this isn’t just a standard trial regarding a genocide or an arms dealer. This a trial where the outcome is absolutely imperative to making the people left behind feel like justice has been served. If Mr. Barnes is allowed to go free it will victimize them all over again. No one should be forced to lose a loved one and then see their killer receiving no consequences and being treated as though he’s an important historical figure. James Buchanan Barnes is a dangerous killing machine, pure and simple. I ask that the court show no mercy towards him. Thank-you, your honour.” 

Bucky bites back the urge to scream as the prosecutor returns to her seat. He’s tired of listening to her badmouth him and he wishes that this could all just be over already. His neck and back are hurting badly, he’s barely slept, and he hasn’t been allowed to talk to Steve since the trial began. Knowing that Steve is now sitting in the gallery doesn’t help things if Bucky can’t so much as touch him. 

Justin gets out of his chair and walks calmly to the middle of the courtroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, my counterpart would have you believe that James Barnes is a soulless killing machine but, as we have demonstrated, that is not the case. Mr. Barnes is a man who simply joined the army to make a better life for himself and his best friend and to serve his country. He helped Captain Rogers and the Howling Commandos to keep Hydra from winning a war that could have had devastating consequences for the entire world and was willing to give his life for that. 

How was he repaid? He was captured, tortured, and spent seventy years as a slave to one of the most evil terrorist organizations in existence. When he wouldn’t comply with their demands, even under threat of more mistreatment, they came up with a way to remove his humanity so that he could be molded into a weapon and used to do Hydra’s bidding. The man who committed those crimes wasn’t James Barnes but an empty shell wearing his face. When the programming was broken Mr. Barnes was able to begin remembering who he was and is and that is not a violent person who harms others on orders of a terrorist organization. As soon as he had the slightest idea that he was a man with thoughts, feelings, and needs of his own he stopped harming others and ran from his captors. Does that sound like someone who enjoys killing?

Since being liberated, Mr. Barnes has been a law abiding citizen. He hasn’t committed any crimes and he hasn’t fought anyone unless it was in self-defense. Hydra has been trying to recapture him, succeeding once, but Mr. Barnes has fought at every step of the way to avoid being reprogrammed by them. He would never willingly return. James Barnes is no longer a threat to society and, in fact, may prove to be a valuable team player should he ever decide to join the Avengers in defending the earth. 

I would like to ask the court to remember that Mr. Barnes is a victim of very unfortunate circumstances. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and became the subject of a project headed by a ruthless madman named Dr. Arnim Zola. He was tortured for seven decades, stripped of his humanity, treated as a weapon, and forced to endure multiple erasures of his memory in order to make sure that he wouldn’t fight back. Hydra took a man who should have been spending his post-war years living a quiet life as a private American citizen and destroyed everything he could have had. 

Mr. Barnes is certainly remorseful for the murders he committed while under Hydra’s control but we would like to ask the court for leniency. Don’t send a man to prison who has already been forced to endure seventy years as a prisoner of a war long finished. Thank-you, your honour.” 

After Justin returns to his seat, Judge Asada announces that the judges will review the evidence and begin deliberations. Bucky is taken back to a holding cell by himself where he waits with nothing to do until it’s time. He’s too nervous and sore to try resting and the chains on his body restrict his movement, keeping him from finding any semblance of comfort on the hard wooden bench. He alternates between sitting and standing. 

Time drags agonizingly slowly. Without a clock or any other human beings around it’s hard to know how long it takes but Bucky assumes it’s a few hours. He wonders where his friends are and what they’re doing, if Steve is going out of his mind with worry just like Bucky or if he’s confident that the trial will end with exoneration. Finally the bailiff returns and he’s marched back down the hall to the courtroom to sit beside Justin. 

The judges return and seat themselves at their table. After court is called back into session, Judge Asada announces, “The court has reviewed the evidence and we have reached a verdict. In the first count of murder in the first degree we find the defendant not guilty.” 

Bucky just about falls off his chair. “What?” he whispers. He’s vaguely aware of Justin patting his arm and telling him to keep quiet as the rest of the verdict is read out. 

“In the second count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty. In the third count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty. In the fourth count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty…” Bucky can barely believe his ears. He listens in shock and awe as all of the counts of murder are read out and he’s found not guilty. 

“Looking good,” Justin murmurs to him. 

The rest of the charges for kidnapping, arson, robbery, and treason are read out and all have the same verdict: not guilty. “Mr. Barnes,” Judge Asada declares, “After a review of the files presented to the court I must say that we were appalled by the conditions of your captivity and the acts you were forced to perform. On behalf of the International Criminal Court I would like to extend our condolences. It is the court’s hope that you are able to create a happy and productive life now that you have been given your freedom. Court is adjourned.” 

After the judges leave the bailiff appears again and escorts Bucky back to the holding cell until he’s transported back to the prison. He isn’t worried though. Justin had explained that this is a normal part of the process until the prison can complete the release paperwork and send him on his way. He waits in another holding cell for three hours until the guards come for him. They search him once more, give him back the suit he came in with, and order him to change. 

“Is anyone going to take this off?” Bucky asks, gesturing to the bracelet on his metal arm. 

“Not our problem,” the guard closest to him snaps. Bucky dresses himself one-handed, marveling at how good he’s managed to become at it, then gets escorted out to an office where he’s forced to wait while a seemingly endless amount of paperwork is completed. Finally, when he’s ready to go, they bring in Steve. 

After a quick hug Steve says, “How ya feeling?” 

“Tired,” Bucky mutters. 

“Come on then, Tony’s got a car waiting for us.” Bucky allows himself to be led to the front door of the building but then balks when he sees a throng of reporters clustered around the steps. 

“I don’t want to go out there,” he whimpers. 

“It’s okay, Buck, you’ll be with me. I won’t let any of them bother you,” Steve reassures him. 

“Okay.” Bucky lets Steve open the door and usher him out. He feels a little more confident when Steve’s arm wraps around his waist, steadying and steering him through the camera flashes and shouting. 

“Sargent Barnes, how does it feel to be a free man?” 

“Are you surprised you were acquitted?” 

“What do you plan to do now?” 

“Are you going to join the Avengers?” 

“Can you make a statement to your victims’ families?” 

Bucky keeps his head down, eyes focused on his feet as they take one step after another, being guided by Steve. He doesn’t acknowledge the reporters. After what feels like an eternity Steve opens the door to a long black limousine and helps him climb inside. Bucky drops onto the seat, feeling emotionally spent. Dimly he registers that his friends are there but he does little more than nod to them in greeting. 

“So what’s the plan?” Steve asks once he’s slid in and shut the door. 

“We’re going to drop you off at your apartment while the rest of us go to the hotel. We’ll pick you up after we’re all packed and head back to the quinjet,” Tony replies.

Bucky leans against Steve and feels comforted when Steve wraps an arm around him. Emotional exhaustion is weighing on him and it makes him wish that he could sleep for a week curled up against Steve’s side. He’s briefly jarred awake by Tony’s voice. “Did they take the bracelet off?” 

“Nope,” Bucky says drowsily before closing his eyes again. 

“I’ll take care of once we get back to the tower,” Tony offers. 

Bucky just hums what he hopes is a positive response before he drifts off. He’s woken later by Steve shaking his shoulder. “Buck, we’re here.” Groggily, Bucky follows Steve out of the limo and up the stairs to the tiniest apartment he’s ever seen, dwarfed by even the one they lived in back in Brooklyn. It’s one room with a single bed and a kitchenette. A door nearby leads to the bathroom. 

“This is where you’ve been living?” 

“Yeah.” Steve crosses the room and gathers Bucky into his arms, squeezing him so tightly that Bucky swears he feels his ribs pop. “God, I missed you so much,” he mumbles against Bucky’s neck, then pulls back to share a gentle kiss. Bucky sags in his arms, letting Steve take some of his weight for a bit while simultaneously feeling exhausted and somewhat content. They stay like that for a few minutes until Bucky finally lets go and flops down onto the bed. 

Steve busies himself with gathering up his clothes and stuffing them into his suitcase. Bucky wants to complain that he isn’t folding anything properly but can’t find the energy to do so. Instead he just lays on the bed and watches. “This place is small. Reaaallly small.” 

That gets a chuckle out of Steve. “I got sick of the hotel so I decided to get my own place for a bit. This was cheap and close to the prison.” 

“You couldn’t have decided to spring for something with an actual bedroom?” Bucky’s voice is muffled by Steve’s pillow. 

“I only came here to sleep,” Steve says. 

Bucky attempts to curl up on the bed but can’t seem to find a position that doesn’t make his prosthesis pull uncomfortably on his back and neck. He lets out a noise of pain. 

“We’ll be home soon. Tony can take that thing off and then you can get some rest,” Steve says gently. 

“Fuck,” Bucky swears. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he sucks in a shallow breath. 

Steve abandons his clothes and comes to sit down next to Bucky on the bed, resting a hand on his side. “Hey sweetheart, I know things have been really rough lately but we’re getting through it. We’re gonna be home soon.” 

“It hurts,” Bucky sobs and before he knows it he’s being lifted from his position on the bed and into Steve’s lap. 

“I know and I’m so sorry. Believe me, if there was a way to trade places with you I would. You don’t deserve any of this,” Steve murmurs into his hair. 

“But I did so many bad things. Maybe this is punishment, even though I didn’t end up in prison for the rest of my life. Maybe I do deserve it.” Bucky can’t reconcile the fact that he’s hurt so many people with anything Steve tells him, even though it might be the truth. 

“No, Bucky. You’re the best person I’ve ever known and you didn’t deserve to have such a hard life. We’re going home and I’m going to take care of you,” Steve insists.

Bucky can’t say anything to that. He just presses his face against Steve’s chest, clinging on for dear life. Steve kisses the top of his head, rubs his back in slow circles, all the while murmuring words that are probably comforting but Bucky doesn’t really listen.

He’s not sure how long they sit there; it could be minutes or even hours but he realizes a significant amount of time has passed when the ringing of Steve’s phone breaks the silence. He listens intently as Steve picks up. “Hey Tony…yeah, okay…listen, can you give us a couple of minutes, please? No…no, everything’s fine. I just, uh, had a lot more stuff to pack than I thought. Give us another ten minutes and then we can go. Bye.” 

“Liar,” Bucky snarks. 

“Jerk,” Steve says affectionately. “I need to finishing packing up my stuff. Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky climbs out of Steve’s lap and splays himself out on the bit of mattress that isn’t occupied by his boyfriend. He watches as Steve frantically grabs whatever’s still laying around, throwing it into his suitcase with wild abandon. Ten minutes passes all too quickly. 

Tony calls again, telling Steve rather crudely to, “Get a move on. The two of you can fuck like rabbits once we get back to the tower.” It makes Steve blush and Bucky glower at the phone like it’s personally offended him instead of the man on the other end. After a quick check that nothing’s being left behind, they head out to meet the rest of the Avengers. Bucky tries not to draw too much attention to himself back in the limo but if anyone notices his red eyes and blotchy face they don’t mention it. 

A few minutes into their ride on the quinjet, Bucky falls asleep again, leaning against Steve’s shoulder. When he wakes he’s no longer sitting up, instead lying on a plush surface, and he can hear snatches of two people in the background trying to have a quiet conversation. They’re not succeeding very well. 

“...should just do it right now. I don’t need him to be awake for it.” 

“Let him sleep for a bit longer…exhausted…” 

“Everyone is. You carried him in here Spangles. Just move him to the table and he can sleep there while I work. I can’t do it while he’s on the couch.” 

“...should just do this tomorrow…take him upstairs.” 

“I want to get a look at that bracelet…interesting tech…could be booby-trapped as well.” 

Bucky groans and pushes himself upright as best he can with his good arm. “I’m awake.” 

“Great, let’s see about getting your arm working again!” Tony says giddily. He looks too much like a small child in a toy store for Bucky’s liking but he’s not going to complain if it earns him two working arms again. 

“Are you sure you want to do this now? It could wait,” Steve says. 

“No, we need to do it now. The bracelet’s booby-trapped, just like Tony said.” Bucky wobbles upright from the couch and heads over to the table that Tony gestures to. “Help me up.” Steve lifts him onto it easily and then busies himself with taking off his jacket and folding it into a makeshift pillow to stick under Bucky’s head. 

“JARVIS, scan that thing on his arm and let me know what you find. Oh, and bring up whatever you can find on a Dr. Ruys,” Tony orders. He’s busy laying out tools on a cart next to the table. 

A blue hologram with a set of the bracelet’s schematics pops up, along with several articles about Dr. Ruys. Tony looks at all of it for a few moments before dismissing the articles. “Stupid, pompous little prick. Thinks he’s God’s gift to cybernetics” he says under his breath and Bucky can’t help but grin. 

“Can you remove it?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, no problem. Numb nuts there thought he was being clever by biometrically keying it to himself and hooking that to an explosive charge but he did a sloppy job at covering his tracks. I haven’t seen encryption this bad in years.” 

“It’s not going to blow us all up, is it?” Steve’s takes hold of Bucky’s flesh hand and squeezes it gently. 

“Prob’ly no’” Tony says around the screwdriver he’s holding between his teeth. 

“You can start by opening the panel on the inner wrist, sir,” JARVIS supplies. 

“That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement, Tony.” Steve’s forehead is creased with worry but Bucky can’t bring himself to feel the same. He trusts Tony enough not to be afraid. Instead Bucky lays back, closing his eyes and not saying a word as JARVIS gives instructions on which panels to unscrew first and which wires can be cut to disarm the explosive. 

“You know, J, I think we should invite this Dr. Ruys over for shits and giggles sometime, give ourselves a nice afternoon off and discredit half of his work in one go. I’d love to see his face when I challenge him to beat our work on proprioception.” 

“Is everything a competition with you, Tony?” Steve complains from his position near Bucky’s head. 

“Only when I have a chance to take some idiot down a peg. You saw what I did to Justin Hammer, right?” 

“No idea who that is.” 

“Why do I even bother?” Tony sighs. He cuts another wire, removes two more screws, and the bracelet pops off, landing on the table with a loud clink. “There you go, Terminator. Give it a few hours for your brain to start processing the data from your arm again and things should be back to normal.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says quietly. He wishes he could say more. Tony’s done so much for him since he came to live in the tower and he wishes that there was a way to properly convey his gratitude. 

Tony seems to sense this and waves a hand at him dismissively. “I know. Don’t go getting all teary-eyed or anything. Just take your boyfriend and head upstairs. I know the two of you are probably wanting some ‘quality alone time’.” 

“What, no rabbit references? I expected an Alice in Wonderland joke at the very least,” Bucky quips.

Steve tugs at his arm. “All right, enough you guys. Come on, Buck.” 

Bucky allows himself to be led to the elevator and taken to their floor. Steve doesn’t seem to want to let go of him during the ride, keeping a hold on his arm, but Bucky doesn’t mind. When the doors open he heads out into their living room and looks around wide-eyed. It’s as if they never left. Tony’s cleaning staff must have kept things up because it all looks as pristine as the day they headed to the preliminary hearing. 

“What do you want to do first?” Steve asks as he hangs up his coat. 

“Dunno.” Bucky hasn’t thought too much about it. All of his focus was on the trial and he never dared to spare a thought for the possibility of seeing home again. Truth be told he just feels tired. “What time is it?” 

Steve checks his phone. “Just about eleven. How about taking a bath and going to bed?” 

That sounds like heaven to Bucky and he says so. Five minutes later he’s perched on the closed toilet seat while Steve runs the bath water and adds in a generous dollop of strawberry scented bubble bath. “I’ll let you relax in peace for a bit. I’m going to get ready for bed,” Steve says. He disappears down the hall and into his room. 

Bucky strips off the suit he’s wearing and tosses it in the laundry bin, thinking that if he never sees it again he’ll be a happy man, doubly so if Tony’s right about his arm. He tries focusing on making his arm move but nothing happens. “Come on,” he mutters. He thinks about how easy it used to be. It had been like moving his flesh and blood arm, not requiring even a moment of conscious thought. Nothing. 

Bucky tries harder, closing his eyes so he can picture lifting his arm. When nothing happens again he growls in frustration, this time imagining making a fist and punching Dr. Ruys right on the nose. That’s when he feels it: just the barest twitch of his metal fingers. 

Bucky gets into the tub, smiling for the first time in months.


	56. Chapter 56

The days following Bucky’s homecoming prove to be a bigger adjustment than he expected. Now that he doesn’t have to follow the strict schedule of the prison he’s not entirely sure what to do with himself. Steve tries to help by suggesting activities they can do, movies they can watch, or friends they could visit but Bucky rebuffs them all. 

He’s exhausted in every sense of the word. His body has only the barest of energy to keep him functioning enough so that he can eat and take care of his personal hygiene. He spends most of his time napping on either the couch or his bed and when not doing that he reads on his tablet, fending off Steve’s mother hen behaviour the entire time. Finally Steve gets so worried that he forces Bucky to submit to an examination by Dr. Cho. 

“You’re physically fine for the most part, James,” she declares. “It seems that you’ve built up a sleep debt in prison and your body is now forcing you to pay it back. There may be a bit of depression at play as well. Are you feeling anything other than tiredness?” 

“A bit out of sorts.” Bucky shrugs at her, not really sure how to explain it. 

“I would recommend connecting with your therapist and trying to work through it. In the meantime I’ll give you some pamphlets about sleep hygiene so you can try to get yourself back into a routine. I would like you to see a physical therapist for your neck and back as well. Spending so long with your prosthesis not operational was definitely not good for you.”

When they leave the medical floor Steve insists that Bucky should connect with Amy but he refuses. He can’t trust her after the revelation in court but he doesn’t speak to Steve about it, instead bottling it all up inside. Not even being given a shiny new Starkphone as bribery sways his decision. Finally an exasperated Steve calls Amy and then forces the phone into Bucky’s hand. 

“Hello James,” Amy says warmly. 

“Hey,” he says for lack of a better greeting. 

“How have you been since coming home?” 

“I feel like shit but I don’t want your help,” Bucky barks into the phone. He can sense Steve hovering nearby so he walks into his room and sits down on the bed. 

“That’s perfectly understandable. I would like to apologize to you for having to find out about Brock the way you did. If I’d known that he was involved in your mistreatment I would have hunted the bastard down and killed him myself.” The venom in her voice is palpable.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that. He opens his mouth and out tumbles, “Did you love him?”

“Truthfully, no,” Amy says. “He might have seemed like a good man when we met but after three months he showed his true colours thanks to your Steve. I had nothing to do with him afterwards.” 

Bucky sighs. He still feels betrayed but he realizes that he really can’t hold it against Amy since she honestly had no idea what Rumlow was up to in his spare time. “I can’t come back. It’s just…it’s too much.” 

“I understand that, James. It would be a conflict of interest for me to treat you now that we know but I can refer you to one of my colleagues if you decide you want to continue with your therapy.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bucky says. When he hangs up he finds Steve lingering near the doorway out in the hall. He shoves the phone back into Steve’s hand and heads to the kitchen for something to eat, completely ignoring his boyfriend.

“You just going to pretend I’m not here?” Steve asks as Bucky rummages in the fridge. He finds some leftover pizza and starts munching on it, leaning up against the kitchen counter. 

“Fuck off, Steve. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” 

“Bucky, you should consider restarting your therapy. It’s not good to lie in bed all day and -” 

“No,” Bucky interrupts. “I spent months in that fucking prison and I’m going to do what I want to do now that I’m out and if that includes sleeping all day then I’m going to fucking do it. I don’t care what you think.” 

“Buck -” 

“How have you been doing with your therapy? Oh, that’s right, you quit going,” Bucky says nastily.

“So I could focus on you, you asshole! I know that it doesn’t compare to being in prison but I spent every minute I had working on your defense or visiting you and you want to know why? Because I fucking love you! Did you just want me to walk away?” Steve’s face is going bright red, his jaw is set, and his hands are clenched at his side. Bucky doesn’t want to fight though. He just wants to eat in peace. 

“You should have. I’m not worth it,” he mutters. Without waiting for Steve’s reaction, Bucky takes his pizza into his bedroom and slams the door. He doesn’t venture out for several hours but in the end the need to empty his bladder takes precedence so Bucky opens the door cautiously. He doesn’t see Steve anywhere so he creeps out to the bathroom to use the toilet. 

On his way back, Bucky notices that the door of Steve’s studio is ajar and there are noises coming from inside. It’s like the sounds that Steve made when he had asthma, the short, hitching breaths of a person who’s trying to breathe in but can’t quite take a full breath, so Bucky tiptoes up to the door and peeks through the crack. 

The only light in the studio is a small lamp burning in the corner that casts shadows on the walls from the various art projects in the room. There’s an easel in the middle of it, set up with a blank canvas. Steve is sitting on a paint-spattered drop cloth on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest and his hands hiding his face. He makes that gasping noise again and a tiny sob slips out. 

“Steve!” Bucky’s through the door and kneeling down in front of him in an instant. “Stevie, hey, are you all right?” 

Steve lifts his head. His eyes are bloodshot and there are tear tracks rolling down his face. “No,” he says roughly. 

“Is that about earlier? I’m so sorry, Stevie. I shouldn’t have said those things. I know you’re just trying to help.” 

“Why can’t I do anything right?” Steve hiccups. “It’s like no matter how hard I try I always end up failing you.” 

Bucky takes hold of both of Steve’s hands and squeezes them tightly. “You’ve never failed me, Steve. **Never.** You’ve always done the best you could with the shit circumstances we were given and nothing bad that’s ever happened to me has been your fault.” 

“I worked so hard to make sure…” Steve’s voice trails off in a hoarse whisper. 

“To make sure of what?” Bucky prompts.

“To make sure that you wouldn’t go to prison and that we could be happy afterwards. I only got it half right. I thought that after all of the crap we’ve been through we could finally go home and everything would be better. Why are we both so miserable? Why couldn’t I get it right?” A stray tear runs it course down Steve’s cheek and Bucky thumbs it away. 

“Hey,” he soothes. “This isn’t on you. It’s okay for us to feel the way we do. You don’t just bounce back from all of the terrible stuff we’ve seen and done because it doesn’t work that way. Sometimes it takes a lot time and hard work before you can find happiness for yourself.” 

“I’m happiest with you. Why don’t you want me?” Steve asks. He’s looking at Bucky with an expression of complete and utter defeat and it makes Bucky’s heart shatter. 

“Oh Stevie, no, that’s not true. I never meant to push you away and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Bucky pulls Steve into his arms, gripping him in a bear hug that’s probably squeezing the life out of him but he needs Steve to know that he isn’t going anywhere. He’ll hold on for dear life, like a drowning man with a life preserver, until the end of the line comes. “I love you so much. I know things are a mess right now but I wouldn’t leave you,” he whispers against Steve’s hair.

“I don’t know what to do,” Steve sobs. 

“Right now we have all the time in the world to figure it out so we don’t have to do anything. Let’s go to bed.” Bucky releases Steve from his crushing hold and stands up, holding out a hand to help his boyfriend up from the floor. Steve accepts it and allows himself to be pulled to his feet, then guided into Bucky’s bedroom. They end up with Steve lying on his side and Bucky spooning him from behind, where they both fall asleep. 

In the days that follow Bucky feels like they’re closer but he still can’t seem to get on the right track mentally or emotionally. He has terrible nightmares that lead to him spending a few nights out of every week in a separate bed from Steve, if only so his boyfriend can get some rest. It won’t do to have both of them bleary-eyed and exhausted all of the time. Bucky spends most of his time lying in bed or on the couch except for his physical therapy sessions, which he attends dutifully twice a week.

It lessens his neck and back spasms, which improves his sleep a little. 

There’s also the matter of every major news outlet in the world trying to get in contact with him, Steve, or anyone who was remotely involved in the trial for an interview so they have something to report besides the small tidbits of information that JARVIS has been feeding them via press release. Bucky tells JARVIS to refuse all contact with the reporters. Desperate to catch a glimpse of him, they start camping out at the tower until Tony beefs up security. 

If Bucky had more energy he’d feel like he’s still captive in the tower, unable to go out into the world in the event of someone recognizing him. As it is though, he can barely leave his own floor. He tries a trip to Natasha’s floor one day and ends up lying on her couch in the same position he’d be in on his own. “I can’t sleep. I still have a shit ton of nightmares and sometimes they’re bad enough that they keep Steve awake too. I’m so damn tired all the time and I just don’t want to do anything,” he complains. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow at him. “Have you tried finding some sort of purpose to your life or is it all just watching tv and browsing Reddit?” 

“I don’t think I have a purpose when I’m not killing something.” Bucky covers his eyes with his hand and heaves out a dramatic sigh. 

“Well find something because this whole situation is getting really depressing for Steve. He thinks it’s his fault,” Natasha says acidly. 

Bucky presses his palms into his eyes. “What if I don’t know where to start?” 

Natasha doesn’t relent. “Then pick something to do, even if it’s just something small like going for a walk or exploring the tower. Just don’t lie on the couch all day and make Steve worry.” 

Bucky decides that going to the gym is a good place to start. His physical therapist cautions him not to do any strenuous lifting so he spends his time on the treadmill, starting at a slow pace and working up to a quick jog. It feels good to get his body moving so he starts going more frequently. He begins to feel more energetic and it seems to lessen the severity of his nightmares, even though they’re still bad enough to wake him up a few times a week. 

Bucky admits to himself that he’s feeling better though until one day when he comes back from the gym and finds Steve in his bedroom packing a suitcase. His heart drops into his stomach. “Steve?” he croaks. 

Without turning around, Steve says casually, “Oh hey, Buck,” as though he hasn’t just torn Bucky’s entire world apart. 

Bucky stands there dumbly, rooted to the spot. His heart is pounding, his mouth is dry, there’s a burning sensation at the back of his eyes, and he can’t seem to form any words. Steve’s leaving. He’s going somewhere without Bucky mere weeks after achieving a victory together and Bucky can’t help but wonder if he’s even going to come back. He knows that’s stupid. Steve would never willingly leave him but the thought of him going off on a mission at this time makes Bucky’s blood run cold. A tear trickles down his cheek but he doesn’t wipe it away. His limbs feel like lead. 

Steve turns around, a lopsided grin on his face, but it dies when he catches sight of Bucky. “Bucky? What’s wrong?” 

“Where are you going?” His voice comes out strangled and he can barely force the words past his lips. 

Steve seems to understand then because he grabs Bucky and brings him in close. “ **We** are going somewhere. I’m not leaving you Bucky, I’m taking you with me.” 

“Where?” Bucky mumbles against the side of Steve’s neck. He can’t stop the tears from falling, can’t stop his heart from hammering in his chest and making him feel like he’s one second short of dying from the palpitations. 

“Before the trial I promised you a vacation. I was thinking it would be a good idea for us to get away somewhere, reconnect a little. Tony’s offered to let us use a cabin he owns up in the Adirondack Mountains for a couple weeks if we want.” He rubs slow circles on Bucky’s back as he talks and it’s comforting, making Bucky think of when he was a child and his ma used to do it to help him go to sleep. 

Bucky finally lifts his head to look Steve in the eye. “That sounds nice. When do we leave?” 

“Tonight,” Steve tells him. “Now go pack your stuff.” 

Tony’s “cabin” turns out to be a two thousand square foot monstrosity with all of the amenities, a spacious attached deck, a landing pad for the quinjet, and a separate building housing a pool, sauna, and hot tub. “Wow, I was expecting something a little more…rustic,” Bucky comments as they enter the front room. 

“This is Tony. He doesn’t do rustic,” Steve points out. 

Bucky’s surprised that the place isn’t decorated to Tony’s usual flashy standards because the interior resembles a log cabin with lots of soft furnishings and homey touches. Pepper’s influence has definitely been at work there. While Steve heads upstairs to put their bags away, Bucky explores. The ground floor is one massive open area that seems to be divided between the living room and kitchen. There’s a sitting area stuffed with tons of comfortable chairs in front of a fireplace, decorated with a fluffy rug and a coffee table that looks like it’s made out of oak.

The kitchen area has an island with seating, dark granite counter tops, and crisp white cabinetry. Between the kitchen and dining areas is a giant oak table with matching chairs that seats twelve. After marveling at it for a moment, Bucky continues his wandering. He spies a door near the stairs that turns out to be a bathroom. It houses a sunken marble tub with a shower that could comfortably hold an army. 

Upstairs is a loft that holds the bedroom, where Bucky finds Steve finishing unpacking. It’s another absolutely gorgeous room with high ceilings, oak furniture, a giant four poster bed that’s got to be even bigger than king-sized, and a chandelier that hangs over top of it all. The master bathroom is mostly the same setup as downstairs, just bigger. “Well, what do you think?” Steve asks when Bucky finally drifts back to him. 

“This is amazing! I can’t believe we get to stay here!” he enthuses. 

Steve just chuckles. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it when Tony showed me pictures of this place. I asked him how often he stays here and he says it’s only once or twice a year.”

“Waste of a nice place,” Bucky grumbles as he heads down the stairs. He ends up back in the living room and decides to check out the fireplace. It doesn’t seem to have any doors that open and he wonders how it’s possible to start a fire without being able to add wood. No doubt it’s got some weird sort of Stark technology that makes it work but Bucky has to admit that he’s stumped. He sits down on the rug in front of the fireplace, feeling utterly perplexed. 

“It might help if you turn it on,” Steve says from somewhere behind him. 

“I would if I knew how.” Bucky twists around to see Steve pick up a remote control from a side table and point it at the fireplace, pressing a button that causes flames to spring up. “Show off,” he mutters at Steve’s smug expression. 

Steve walks over and hovers hesitantly for a moment but then carefully lowers himself down onto the rug next to Bucky. “Okay if I sit with you?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, his eyes trained on the dancing flames. 

There’s an awkward silence where Steve looks like he’s going to say something, decides against it, and then tries again. “Can we start over?” he blurts out. 

Bucky feels thoroughly confused. “With what?”

”Us,” Steve clarifies. “We’re free now; we can do whatever we like. I was hoping that meant we could start doing the things we used to; you know, date nights and stuff because I really miss all of that.” He’s looking at Bucky with trepidation on his face and it breaks Bucky’s heart to think Steve is bracing for the possibility that he might not want the same thing. 

“Yeah, I want to.” Bucky reaches out and takes Steve’s hand into his own, intertwining their fingers. “Stevie, I know I haven’t been easy to live with. I know I’ve screwed up a lot but I’m not going to waste this second chance you’re giving me. I want what you want.” Steve’s expression of relief is like a stab in the chest and Bucky never wants to be the cause of it again. 

“I don’t think of it as a second chance. I guess it’s more like…another chapter in our lives together. It seems like we always find each other,” Steve says. 

If Bucky was a dame he’d probably swoon. Instead he reaches over with his free hand, grabs the back of Steve’s neck, and pulls him in for a kiss. When they break apart, Bucky breathes, “To the end of the line.” 

“Always,” Steve agrees.


	57. Chapter 57

Not having a tv to lie in front of does wonders for curing Bucky’s slothfulness. It also helps that both he and Steve decided to leave their tablets and phones at home, electing to only be reachable by message from JARVIS, and that most of the reading material lying around is a year out of date. 

“What does Tony do out here if he doesn’t have any electronics or good stuff to read?” Bucky grumbles. 

“He brings Pepper here. What do you think he does?” Steve retorts. 

“No way, Rogers. You have to woo me first.” Bucky chucks a decorative pillow across the room and it hits Steve in the chest.

“Oh that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Steve grabs the pillow and fires it back, managing to smack Bucky square in the face.

From there the fight is on. They each grab several pillows and charge at each other. Steve elects to grab the pillows by the corners and swing them but Bucky goes for full on throwing, hurling them like grenades. One of them nails Steve in the stomach while the other misses, flying over his shoulder and knocking a votive candle off the coffee table. 

Steve’s got a pillow in each hand, swinging wildly with no finesse, and he manages to get the better of Bucky after hitting him in the face again. He finds himself knocked down on the living room floor while Steve straddles him, pummeling him mercilessly in the head with a pillow. “Okay, okay, enough!” Bucky shouts between bursts of laughter. 

“Giving up so soon?” Steve teases. 

Bucky raises his hands to shield himself from the onslaught. “Yes, now stop!” Steve finally tosses the pillow aside and moves to roll off but Bucky catches him and pins him in place. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“You told me to stop,” Steve says innocently. 

“Well I didn’t say get off.” 

“Oh I can get off if you really want me to,” Steve leers and they both burst into laughter. 

“That was terrible, Steve. You really need to up your game.” 

“Hey, you said you wanted wooing.” 

“I was thinking something actually romantic, not being beaten to death with a pillow,” Bucky says just before he drags Steve down for a kiss. 

When they break apart, Steve asks, “Like what, another picnic?” 

“That’d be a start.” 

Steve climbs off of Bucky and gets to his feet, offering a hand up. “Well we haven’t had lunch yet so why don’t we?”

After rummaging through the fridge and cupboards in the massive kitchen, they come up with a plate full of sandwiches, some fruit, and a cheesecake, but no picnic basket. “Guess we’ll just have to improvise,” Steve remarks. 

Bucky takes a plate from Steve and starts heading towards the door. “C’mon, we can eat on the deck.” It’s nice to sit on the patio furniture under the sun, listening to the sounds of birds chirping in the trees and the wind whispering around them. For once Bucky doesn’t have to worry about their time together being interrupted by anyone or anything. 

They eat in companionable silence, managing to put away all of the food with their super soldier appetites, then wash the dishes side by side. “This seems oddly familiar,” Steve comments while grinning at Bucky. 

Bucky nudges his shoulder playfully. “Because we do the dishes together all the time, right?” 

Steve mock scowls at him before saying, “I’m trying to do some wooing here and you’re not helping!” 

“You gotta work for it!” Bucky moves a little out of reach and sticks his tongue out childishly, laughing when Steve just sighs. 

“JARVIS, can you play some music for us?”

“Certainly Captain. Is there anything you’d like to hear?”

“Just something romantic,” Steve requests. He holds out a hand as the beginning notes of a song tinkle in through the cabin’s speakers. Bucky accepts and lets himself be pulled flush against Steve.

_If I go a million miles away_  
 _I'd write a letter each and every day_  
 _'Cause honey, nothin',_  
 _Nothin' can ever change this love_  
 _I have for you_

Bucky lets Steve guide him in slow circles around the kitchen, being careful not to bump into anything. He closes his eyes and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, feeling that blissful contentment wash over him like it did that night in their own kitchen when they were still a new couple.

_Ooh, make me weep_   
_You can make me cry_   
_See me comin'_   
_And you can pass me by_   
_But honey, nothin',_   
_Nothin' can ever change this love_   
_I have for you_ __

“I love you,” Steve murmurs.

Bucky presses a kiss to the side of Steve’s neck. “Love you too, so much.” Neither of them speak again until the song ends, just revolving slowly on the spot as the last notes fade away. 

When they break apart, Steve asks, “Does that count as wooing?” 

Bucky grins at him.“Yeah.” 

“Then I’ll keep at it. We can take it as slow or as fast as you want.” Steve peppers gentle kisses down Bucky’s jawline. “And this time we won’t be interrupted.” 

“I missed this so much when I was in prison. I’d get so lonely and I’d just wish you could hold me,” Bucky admits. 

“Come on.” Steve tugs him by the hand, heading in the direction of the living room. The two of them curl up on the couch to cuddle and Bucky promptly falls asleep, feeling safe and secure. When he wakes, Steve is gone but there’s a note on the kitchen table saying that he’s decided to go for a run. 

It’s still early evening so Bucky decides to check out the pool house. He’s surprised by how big it is but doesn’t bat an eye at the opulence of the entire place. Tony’s clearly defied Pepper’s design aesthetic by decking the entire room out in white marble with red and gold accents, even going so far as to have a chandelier hung above the pool itself. The hot tub is several feet away next to a door that Bucky assumes is for the sauna. 

He realizes that he doesn’t have a swimsuit but decides not to worry about it because it’s not like anyone besides Steve is going to see him. Bucky sheds his clothing, tossing it beside the pool, and dives right in to the deep end. He decides to swim laps for awhile, relishing in the feel of being able to move freely in the water. 

After making it back and forth across the pool a few times Bucky stops and just floats on his back. He’s content to stare up at the gold covered ceiling, amusing himself with thoughts of how a poor boy from Brooklyn ended up in a place he never would have dreamed of as a kid. The sound of the door opening drags him from his thoughts.

Bucky swims to the edge of the pool and watches as Steve enters the room. “Bucky?” 

“Right here,” Bucky calls. 

Steve grins at him like they haven’t seen each other in years instead of an hour or so. “I didn’t know you were here. Just came in to check out the hot tub.” 

“The pool’s nicer,” Bucky says. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because it has me in it!” Bucky gives Steve a cheeky grin and then splashes some water at him. 

“Hey, you’re getting my pants all wet!” Steve protests. 

Bucky just chuckles. “Guess you’ll have to take them off then.” 

“Just for that I’m going to sit in the hot tub, far away from you.” Steve scrunches up his face in mock offence and then sticks out his tongue. He heads over to the hot tub and starts undressing under Bucky’s watchful eye. “Are you checking out my ass?”

“Damn straight I am,” Bucky calls back. Once Steve gets into the hot tub, obstructing his view, Bucky goes back to swimming laps until he manages to tire himself out. He heaves himself out of the pool onto the tiled floor. Steve isn’t in the hot tub anymore but his clothes are still there so Bucky checks the sauna. He finds him lying on one of the benches, stretched out with an arm behind his head and his eyes closed.

Bucky feels his mouth go dry. Steve looks like a a renaissance painting, all laid out on his back with the the lights of the sauna casting a warm glow across his smooth skin. He’s always been impressive but seeing him like this sends a spike of want through Bucky. Steve cracks an eye and says drowsily, “You going to just stand there all day?” 

“Just admiring. God you’re gorgeous.” Bucky grins at him.

“Oh shut up,” Steve mumbles. 

“I mean it, Stevie.” Bucky climbs up onto the bench and hoists a leg over Steve’s waist, straddling him. “Sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

“You trying to butter me up for something?” Steve rumbles and it’s not hard to miss the lust on his face.

“Hmmm, maybe I just wanna get laid? It’s been awhile.” Bucky rocks his hips back and forth teasingly, making sure to rub their rapidly hardening cocks together. Steve reaches out with the hand that’s not propping up his head and grabs Bucky’s ass.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this. You have no idea how many times I jerked off thinking of you while you were in prison.” 

“A lot?” Bucky chuckles.

“I’d lay there in bed and think about stuff we’ve done before and jerk it. Missed ya so much afterwards.” Steve’s hand kneads the flesh of Bucky’s ass lazily. 

“Really? What did you think about?” Bucky asks. 

Steve lets out a moan as Bucky rolls his hips again. “I thought about…oh god, Buck…I’d think about our first night together, after we went dancing. You were so gorgeous, lying on the bed covered in rose petals, and it’d get me hot every time. And then there was that night in the tub. I wanna do that again too.” 

“Oh we’re definitely doing that again,” Bucky agrees and he’s rewarded with a string of curse words from Steve. 

“Jesus Buck, need to fuck you so bad.” 

“There’s no lube. We’ll have to go back to the cabin.” 

“Then hurry up and get going because as soon as we get inside I’m gonna give it to you so good,” Steve growls. He slaps Bucky’s ass. 

“Yes Captain,” Bucky laughs before climbing off the bench and heading for the door. He decides against picking up his clothes, heading out of the pool house at a light jog. “Come on Stevie, bet you can’t catch me!” He puts on a burst of speed across the neatly manicured lawn towards the house.

Steve follows suit, quickly catching up to him and grabbing him around the waist. “Oh yeah?” He lifts Bucky up as though he weighs nothing and throws him over his shoulder. 

“Put me down you idiot! What are you, a caveman?” Bucky pounds his fist against Steve’s shoulder but all that earns him is another slap on the ass. 

“Yep. I’m gonna drag you back to my cave and have my way with you,” Steve says and they both burst into laughter. 

“Well get dragging then,” Bucky demands in between giggles. He kicks his feet like a petulant child. Steve carries him the rest of the way across the lawn and into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind them. Instead of heading for the stairs like Bucky expects, Steve deposits him on the kitchen table and begins rummaging in the cupboards. “Uh, Steve? I thought we were gonna fuck, not bake a cake.” 

Steve straightens up from where he’s bent over, holding a bottle of coconut oil triumphantly in his hand. “I’m not wasting time going upstairs. Wanna fuck you ****now****.” He comes back to stand in between Bucky’s legs, giving him a passionate kiss that re-routes what little blood supply he has left in his brain down to his groin.

“Fuck!” Bucky gasps when they break apart. 

“That’s the idea.” Steve pushes him back on the table and then unscrews the cap from the coconut oil. He pours some into his palm and then takes Bucky’s leaking cock in his hand. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky shouts. It’s been so long since he’s been touched. The entire time he was in prison he’d been too anxious and depressed to even think about sex, let alone get himself off. He lets Steve play with him, alternating between stroking his cock, massaging his balls, and rubbing around his hole, then inserting a finger. Steve crooks it just right and Bucky’s hips lift off the table. “I’m gonna come if you keep that up.” 

“Not a problem. I can just get you off again,” Steve says smugly.

Bucky reaches out and catches his wrist. “I want my first after-prison orgasm to happen with your dick in me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Just lie there and think of baseball or something,” Steve says. He returns to gently teasing and stretching but avoids Bucky’s prostate to keep him from coming. 

Finally Bucky’s had enough. “Hurry up and fuck me you jerk!” 

“Punk,” Steve shoots back but he does what he’s told and slides right in.

After that there’s very little said that isn’t grunts, moans, or shouts of “Oh Steve!” The oak dining table, which would be too heavy for a normal man to lift, slides across the floor with the force of Steve’s thrusts. “Oh god, oh fuck, harder, harder, harder,” Bucky chants. He shrieks when he’s hauled off the table and pinned against the kitchen wall so Steve can jackhammer into him. His legs lock around the small of Steve’s back in an attempt to anchor himself as he’s mercilessly bounced up and down in a punishing rhythm that makes his eyes roll back in his head. 

“Bucky,” Steve moans. 

The sound of his name falling from Steve’s lips goes straight to his cock and it takes all of his willpower not to come right then and there. Bucky grips his boyfriend’s shoulders hard enough to bruise, lets his head fall back against the wall as he whimpers and groans with pleasure. “Steve…gonna…soon.” 

“Yeah, come on,” Steve grunts. 

Bucky frees his flesh hand and squeezes it in between them to jack himself off roughly as Steve slams his prostate. It only takes a few seconds before he’s coming, crying out, “Fuck, Steve!” 

Steve holds him up until he starts to come down from his high, then pulls out and sets him down on his feet. “How’s that for your first post-prison orgasm?” he asks with a grin. 

“Damn good. Now let me finish you off.” Bucky reverses their positions, pushing Steve against the wall to take his cock in hand. 

“God Buck, missed you so much. Need you,” Steve says breathlessly. He pulls Bucky closer and they begin to trade sloppy open-mouthed kisses until finally Steve tenses and begins to shudder under Bucky’s touch. 

“Good?” he asks once Steve’s coherent enough to answer. 

“Good.” He leans against the wall, watching as Bucky washes the cum off his hands at the kitchen sink, smiling dopily. 

“Knock it off,” Bucky says. 

“Knock what off?” 

“That stupid expression on your face, Rogers. Quit looking at me like I hung the moon or something.” 

Steve just chuckles. “I could stare at your ass and make suggestive comments if you’d prefer that?”

“Go ahead then.” Bucky makes a rude gesture and then turns back to the sink. Steve comes up behind him to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist. 

“Your ass is amazing, just like the rest of you,” he says and they both start laughing again.

“God Steve, you have the worst pick-up lines!” Bucky chortles. 

“Hey, they don’t have to be good if they work. I’ve already picked you up, haven’t I?” Steve thrusts against him. 

Bucky finishes drying his hands and detaches Steve’s arms so he can turn around. “You ready for round two?” 

“Yeah, just not on the kitchen table again. Let’s go upstairs,” Steve says. 

After Steve’s bounced him up down until he’s had another screaming orgasm, Bucky lays sprawled out on the bed, boneless and satiated. “Stevie?” 

“Hmm?” Steve says from where he’s curled up on his side. 

“What happens after we leave here?” 

Steve frowns. “What do you mean, Buck?” 

Bucky shrugs. “Our life…does it just go back to the way it was or can we change some things?”

“Bucky, we can do whatever we want now that we don’t have the trial looming over our heads.” Steve reaches out to grab his hand and lace their fingers together. “Is there something you want?” 

“It’s just…Natasha said I need to find a purpose for my life instead of sitting around and watching tv but I don’t know where to start,” Bucky says softly. 

“Start with what you want. No matter what you decide to do, I’ll support you. You said once that you just wanted a quiet life with me and that’s okay. If you never want to pick up a weapon again, I won’t fight you about it. It’s your choice.” 

“I don’t think a quiet life is possible for anyone who’s dating you,” Bucky snorts. 

“I’d be willing to retire,” Steve declares and he looks completely serious about it. 

Bucky just shakes his head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. I know you; the first sign of trouble and you’d be itching to pick up your shield again.” Steve’s face falls and Bucky feels like an idiot. 

“I’m serious, Buck. I’d retire for you. Just say the word. We can move out of the tower and find a place out of the way for ourselves and maybe Tony can rig up some sort of security system so -” 

“I don’t want you to retire,” Bucky interrupts. He gently squeezes Steve’s hand and then brings it to his lips to press a kiss against the knuckles. “And I don’t want to move out of the tower either. I want to do what I do best - watch your back and make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” 

Steve lets out a breath he probably wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “Are you saying you want to be an Avenger?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah, I think so. I mean I did a lot of really terrible things as the Soldier and I want to change that. I can’t give any of Hydra’s victims back what they lost but maybe I can do some good in the world and keep those assholes from hurting anyone else. Plus you need someone to watch your sorry ass because you do stupid things without thinking, you jerk.” 

“How can I when you always take all the stupid with you?” Steve retorts. 

Bucky just grins at him. “Tell Stark I want a new set of tac gear that doesn’t make me look like The Crow.”

Steve just sighs. “I don’t know why I put up with you. You make me watch the weirdest movies.” 

Bucky sticks out his tongue and childishly blows a raspberry. “Because you love me.” 

“Because I love you,” Steve agrees.


	58. Epilogue

Epilogue

“All right Barnes, this is your new tac gear, made specially for you. You’d better thank your lucky stars that I didn’t make it all silver to match your arm,” Tony says as he leads Bucky towards a table in his lab. 

Bucky stops short when he sees it, causing Steve to smack into him from behind. “Ouch,” he complains. 

“Sorry.” Steve steps around him and goggles at the new uniform on the table. 

Tony’s practically bouncing up and down, vibrating with the excitement of being able to show off his new creation. “You like?” 

“I love it!” Bucky exclaims. On the table is a pair of black tactical pants, the steel-toed boots he favours, and a dark blue coat that resembles the one he wore back in the war, only with one arm, and a utility belt. 

“Bullet-proof, mildly electric shock-proof, all the pockets you could ever want, and a hidden switchblade in the left boot,” Tony babbles. He picks the jacket up from the table and thrusts it at Bucky. “Try it on.”

He slips the coat on and finds that he quite likes the way Steve is looking at him in it. “Bucky, you look…” 

“Like I did during the war?” Bucky grins at him.

“Even better,” Steve decides and he’s smiling too. 

“I based that on some old pictures of my dad’s that I found. And guess what? You haven’t even seen the best part!” Tony bounds over to another table and motions for them to follow him. 

Bucky can scarcely believe his eyes. “Is that -?”

“You bet! The Barret M82; best sniper rifle in the world with a firing range of up to eighteen hundred meters. Of course I made a few modifications to it that you’re going to love but we can go over those later. I’ve also got you a nice set of tactical knives but I can do grenades, lasers, and repulsors if you’re into any of those things,” Tony prattles on. 

Bucky holds the rifle in his hands, barely taking in anything else that’s being said as he admires it. Somehow the weight of it in his hand feels right and he knows that joining the Avengers was the best decision. Out of the corner of his eye he catches Steve smiling at him again. “What?” 

“You’re happy. I can tell,” he says.

“Yeah, I am,” Bucky agrees. 

“Sir, there is a disturbance being caused in Greenwich Village. It seems that Doctor Doom has returned with an army of Doombots and is attacking people in Washington Square Park. Shall I ready the quinjet?” 

“Go ahead, J. We should be wheels up in ten,” Tony tells his AI.

“Well, I guess there’s no time like the present for your first mission. Suit up and let’s get going,” Steve says.

Bucky just grins and follows that little guy from Brooklyn into one more fight. 


End file.
